Rise
by Rochelle Allison
Summary: Bella is a bad boy's girl, living a life she no longer wants. She's trapped, until one of the things that keeps her confined - her bodyguard - becomes the very thing that could set her free.
1. Rise

All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

not beta'd

prompt - rise

* * *

Even with my sunglasses on, the blazing midday sun glows bloody through closed eyelids. It's hot here, maybe hotter than any place I've ever been. I like it. It cleanses.

It's peaceful here: nearly soundless but for the ebb and flow of water over sand, the quiet shush of palm trees, the occasional, distant whine of passing jets miles above. I wish I could stay forever, just like this. I wish I needed nothing.

But I do need things, and people need me.

Even as I think it, a soft chime sounds, my phone informing me that my time is up. If I'm not back where I'm expected in ten minutes or so, I'll be sought out and that's just not necessary. Taking a deep breath, I rise, slipping my feet into sandals and my arm through the straps of my bag.

Maybe, if I'm lucky, I can come back to this beach we leave.

I know, though, that I won't.

Back at the villa, things are as I left them. He sits outside, a little king of his own making, surrounded by sycophants. They drink and smoke and talk shit and play poker, all the while making deals and perfecting plans. Local hired girls, dressed minimally, sway in and out of the scene, making sure these fools want for nothing: cigars, booze, pills, physical release. It took one day of relaxing by the pool for me to realize it wasn't very relaxing at all, which is why the beach became my chosen place of solace.

Not that it matters. After tomorrow, we'll be back in the States, and this place will be another memory.

A leggy redhead with tan, freckled skin and the nicest breasts I've ever seen struts by with a drink and a plate of food. I watch her walk straight to him, stopping only when she's nearly on top of him. She places the tray carefully in an empty spot on the table, leaning down so that he can whisper in her ear. Her lips curve and she straightens, nodding.

I'm still staring when he looks up and sees me. We share a look: him, neutral, me, neutral.

I don't care what he does. In the end, it's me that warms his bed, decorates his arm, spends his money. I loved him once, but that was before. Way before, when the people we were, were...people we _were._ I scarcely remember that me or that him. I'd leave, but it's not that simple.

I know because I tried to leave once.

He promised he'd kill me if I ever tried again.

Inside the kitchen, the housekeeper of our rented villa is dressing down several of the girls. She's older than she looks, still beautiful, and I suspect that before age caught up to her, she was doing what the rest of these girls do now.

"Who's responsible for this?" she asks, gesturing toward a broken plate. It's not that big a deal, and I hate for people to get in trouble for such minor infractions, but they run a tight ship here. Sometimes I wonder if these girls are any freer than me. They work, they get paid well. They're expected to...go above and beyond.

And under, if you catch my drift.

But beneath it all there's this undercurrent of desperation, and I've seen it in every place we've been: Mexico, the Bahamas, Miami, LA, the Dominican Republic...and now the Cayman Islands. Race and culture might differ vastly, but money and vices are universal bottom lines. Alec and his guys always, _always_ hire girls like this to tend to their needs.

I don't stick around to see which of the maid-whores admits to breaking the plate. Grabbing a banana from a bowl, I make my way upstairs and into the bedroom, exhausted. I do nothing but lounge and keep my dick of a boyfriend company, but I'm never not tired.

A shower, a change of clothes. A bump, left on the dresser while I was in the bathroom; a "gift" from Alec. It's one of his non-violent ways of keeping me beneath his thumb, and it keeps me both coherent and cooperative. I tie my hair back, lean down, snort my sanity without fanfare, and open the window, feeling flushed.

In the distance, the sun descends. The sky is every color.

I gaze down at the scene around the pool, at the redhead now sitting on Alec's lap, the soft glow of lights that came on with the fall of dusk. Suddenly I can't wait to get out of here. At least back home I feel like I can leave when I want, even if it's just an illusion.

A knock at the door jerks me from my thoughts. Turning, I clear my throat and run a hand over my shirt, smoothing the wrinkles. "Come in."

It's Masen. I barely look at him before crossing to the bed, haphazardly shoving things into my purse. It's nothing; I'm going nowhere. An act to keep busy, to shed myself of the nervous energy humming through my body courtesy of the coke and this man's gaze.

"What?" I snap, when I can no longer deal with the silence.

"Look at you." He almost sneers, eyes fixed on my face.

"What?" I repeat.

Shaking his head, he comes around to the other side of the bed and gently brushes his thumb beneath my nose. "Why do you do this shit?" he whispers, frowning, I assume, at the white residue on his fingers.

"Stop it." I shove away, irritated. Masen's concern is false, a pretend byproduct of his job. Alec hired him one year ago to be my keeper, although that isn't what either of them would call it. _Bodyguard. Driver. _Whatever.

His face hardens. "Alec sent me up to check on you."

"Why? He seems just fine down there."

"You've been up here for hours."

Have I? I glance at the window again, then at the clock beside the bed. Six o'clock. Guess I lost track of time. Shrugging, I step away, resisting the urge to wipe my nose.

"Let's go down," Masen says, touching my arm.

I pull away, not liking the way it feels when he touches me. I'm attracted to him, and sometimes I think he's attracted to me, but these men are all the same. They speak only the languages of violence and commodity, leaving little room for things like love and affection.

His beauty is irrelevant. The finest faces can hide the most rotten souls.

* * *

_**this story could not be more different than the last one. have faith? trust.**_

_**xoxo**_


	2. Tension

**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

**not beta'd**

**Word Prompt**: Tension

**Plot Generator—Idea Completion**: Be careful what you wish for.

* * *

Thanks to delays due to weather not even Alec can control, we get in to OAK around midnight. The airport is eerily quiet at this time, as if it was waiting for just us, only us. We make our way to baggage claim in silence, several of his guys trailing behind us.

After a small eternity, our luggage drifts lazily by on the carousel. Irrationally irritated by the perceived indignity of waiting, Alec gestures impatiently to Felix, who easily piles the bags on to one of those rented carts.

"Hungry?" Alec asks. It's the first thing he's said directly to me since we left Grand Cayman earlier this afternoon.

"No."

"We'll stop somewhere," he says, as if I haven't spoken at all.

Swallowing a yawn, I veer off toward the rest room to powder my nose.

* * *

When Alec and I are together, we're driven by Felix. Masen disappeared somewhere between the terminal and the parking garage, but I know he isn't far. His car is either the one just ahead or the one right behind us.

We pull into a twenty four hour fast food place and order a ton of garbage I won't touch. Alec will; he has the appetite and metabolism of a teenager. The smell of grease and meat turns my stomach, and I wish, more than anything, I was riding with Masen in his immaculate car.

"You should eat, baby," Alec says, thrusting a milkshake my way.

I accept it, not wanting to bicker. A milkshake, I can do.

At the house, Felix pulls up to the gate and jabs at the keypad. The gates sweep open and we glide up the drive, stopping right at the front door. The windows are all lit up from within; the housekeeper knew we were returning today. When we step inside everything will be spotless, the temperature just right, the fridge filled with food. The pool will probably be warm, too, and I'm tempted to go for a swim, regardless of the hour or the bite in the air. Anything to wash the grime of travel away, the grime of...everything.

Thankfully, Alec's more interested in talking on the phone than getting off when we get to the bedroom. I quickly change into one of my swimsuits, grab a towel, and slink away to the patio.

As expected, the water is nearly bathtub warm. Groaning quietly, I ease in, grateful for small pleasures. Now that we're back in the Bay, Alec will resume his frenetically busy lifestyle. He was busy on the trip, but not the way he is when we're here, and that's fine with me.

I alternate between swimming laps and floating, desperate to relax as I come down. I've done more coke this week than I normally do, and my nose and nerves are paying the price. I know I need to stop before it becomes a habit; already the urge to do more tears at me from inside.

But I'm good. I've stopped before; I can do it again. I'll just need a little help.

I emerge from the pool feeling a little better. After a hot shower and a cup of tea, I return to the bedroom I share with Alec. He's in bed, on the computer.

"Do you have any weed?" I ask, sitting.

"Now? Damn."

"It'll help me come down easier."

He snorts indelicately, shaking his head. "I don't know why you had to do more when we landed, Bella. Stupid."

"Yeah. So, do you have any? Weed?"

"Nope. I'll get you some tomorrow."

That doesn't help me now. I stand up, tightening my ponytail. "I'm going to see if Masen has any."

He dismisses me with a flick of the wrist, and I know, someday soon, I'll succeed in leaving.

Even if I have to die to do it.

* * *

Masen opens his door just a sliver, frowning at me in the moonlight. He's in nothing but sweatpants, and it occurs to me that he was sleeping. _Of course he was sleeping; it's nearly four a.m. _He inventories me from head to toe, taking in the sweater slipping off my shoulder, ancient leggings, bare feet.

"Everything okay?" he asks, opening the door wider, letting me in. "What's up?"

I enter, and he closes the door behind me, adding his gun to the detritus on a little table: loose change, keys, a scrap of paper.

"You have something I can smoke?" I ask, folding my arms.

He nods slowly, eyes searching mine. "You trying to come down?"

Suddenly I'm so relieved. It washes over me like warm water, soothing the tension and the ache. "Yeah," I croak, trying not to cry. My emotions are shot. Any dopamine that was in my body at the beginning of this week has been depleted, leaving me hollow.

"Good," he murmurs. Unlike us, Masen won't touch the harder stuff. He drinks and smokes, but that's where it ends. It's one of the reasons Alec trusts him, both around me and around his stuff.

I follow Masen to the living room. Because he lives at the other end of the property, he has the same view we do. Beyond the inky black of night, the sky glows orange with San Francisco's city lights. The Bay Bridge twinkles in between, a touchable constellation.

"Here." He gestures for me to sit, and then leaves the room for a moment. I look around at the sparse furnishings. All this time, and I've only been inside his house twice. A door somewhere closes and then he's back, sparking up a joint, which he hits deeply before relinquishing.

"Thanks," I whisper, closing my eyes as I inhale.

There isn't much to say, so we don't speak while we share. When the living room gets too hazy, he cracks open the sliding glass doors, exchanging smoke for a chill. "Alec know you're here?"

"Of course." I open one eye, peering at him in the dimness. "Why?"

"I wouldn't want to wake up to find my girl gone," he says, shrugging. He coughs, grabbing a bottle of juice from the coffee table.

I laugh quietly. "He doesn't care."

"Oh, he cares."

"Not in the right way."

"There's a right way to care?" He asks like he knows I'm right, but like he wants me to expound.

"There's caring for the other person and there's caring about yourself. He cares about me in relation to him. Not about me for me." My heart lurches. This is the most I've said about my relationship in quite some time. Half the time I don't even bother to acknowledge to myself, not even in the privacy of my own brain. "Sometimes I wish he'd just leave me alone. For good."

He sits forward, outing the joint on an old plate. "Might wanna be careful what you wish for."

There is nothing to say to that - so I say nothing, leaving Masen's words hanging like smoke. After a moment he pulls on a long-sleeved t-shirt. "Let me walk you back."

"No." I stand, waving him away. "No. Stay. Go back to sleep."

Ignoring me, he walks past me to the front door, where he grabs his keys. "After you."

I don't like it, but I let him do his job. The walk back to the main house takes maybe five minutes, and then he's depositing me at the front door. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah."

* * *

_**drugs are going to be part of the ongoing scenery, but this story is not about addiction.**_


	3. Thrill

**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

**not beta'd**

**Word Prompts**: Thrill, spill, chill

* * *

The wall changes color as morning breaks. I don't fall sleep until seven, and even then I'm only gifted with several hours before Alec reaches for me. He doesn't bother kissing me anymore. There is no romance, no thrill – just physical release and a modicum of companionship...for him.

Alec hates being alone. Even when there's no one around, he's on the phone or computer, or on his way to meet with someone. And honestly, the house is never empty. Felix or Marcus are always lurking around, if not the whole crew. And me. I'm usually here, even when he's not.

I am an only child. But being alone as a kid never meant being lonely; I liked spending time with books. Outside, inside, at the table, in the car. I had friends, but I was never particularly outgoing. My best friend, Angela, was a bookworm just like me. I think about her a lot, wonder what she's doing these days. We haven't spoken in two years. Her birthday passed one month ago, and I thought about calling her.

The phone rings. Cursing, Alec rolls out of bed and answers it. There was a time when his body was beautiful to me, when the lines and curves and angles pulled me inside out. I turn on my side, away from him, and try to go back to sleep. He goes to the bathroom, taking his phone call with him.

Sometime later, I wake with a start. The room's bright, blinds wide open. Squinting, I sit up and rub my face. It's nearly noon.

A shower, a shave. I briefly consider finishing solo what Alec started this morning, but then decide I just don't care.

Masen's in the kitchen, reading the paper, when I get there.

"Morning," I say.

He half-smiles, glancing at his watch before focusing on me. "Noon."

His eyes are the brightest green in the daytime, like sun shining through blades of grass. There's a tightness in my chest and then it's gone, swallowed by the general state of apathy I seem to abide in these days.

But I do smile at him. It's a reflex: he makes me want to smile.

I make myself coffee and an omelette, offering Masen the same.

"I already ate, but thanks," he says. "I was beginning to wonder if you were okay in there."

Shrugging, I bring my plate and cup to the table and sit. "Slept in for once. We were up late, you know?"

"Yeah." He clears his throat, putting down the paper. "Feeling better?"

"You always ask me that," I say, taking a bite of toast. "I'm fine. Great. Is Alec around?"

"He left a couple of hours ago."

I nod, sandwiching my omelette before stuffing it in my mouth – looks like my appetite is back. He returns to the paper and we sit in companionable silence as I finish eating.

"I'd like to go to the city today," I say after a while.

"What time?"

"Now, I guess."

He nods, folding the paper and standing. "What else?" Masen always likes knowing where we'll be going ahead of time. It gives him time to mentally prepare. I could probably elaborate on that mentally, but frankly, I prefer to insulate myself. If I have to live this way, then I might as well enjoy the benefits and ignore the risks.

A half an hour later we're speeding down the road, Chopin and sunlight filling the space between us. We cross the bridge, and I think of my dad. I always do. When I was little, we'd do this thing where we'd hold our breath the whole way over. At least, I'd try to; I'd usually cheat and take a breath once we hit Yerba Buena. I'm pretty sure Charlie cheated, too.

"What?" Masen asks, his voice soft.

I realize the music has been turned down, and that I'm smiling. My cheeks warm, and I look out the window. "I...just. Memories." I shake my head. "Nothing."

Yerba Buena appears ahead and for a second, I feel like I can tell Masen anything. I don't know why; he's not the most effusive man in the world, either. For the first five or six months of his detail he barely spoke to me at all. It took getting drunk together a couple of times for us to loosen up around each other, and he's still cautious. Because of Alec, I assume. It's not caution for me, though. I just don't trust many people.

"Come on," he says, chuckling. "Spill."

I take a deep breath. "When I was a kid, my dad and I would hold our breath crossing the bridge. It was a contest."

"Who'd win?"

"I don't know," I say, smiling again. "I think we both cheated."

Masen grins, glancing at me before refocusing on the road. After a moment, he turns the Chopin back up. I used to harass him about his musical choices. Lately, though, I love it.

* * *

Masen follows me from store to store, waiting while I try on clothes and then buy them. By the time we head back to the parking garage, the already grey day is dimming even more, and the familiar chill in the air has a considerable bite.

Shivering, I practical leap inside the car once it's unlocked, cranking the heat up.

"Why don't you ever dress warmly?" Masen chides, slipping in beside me.

"Why do you insist on acting like my grandpa?" I shoot back, buckling my seatbelt.

He's quiet, and when I finally look at him, he's closer than I expected. Long, dark eyelashes. A tiny scar beneath his eye. A slightly crooked nose. "Is that how you see me?" he asks, only partly teasing. His probably rhetorical question brings my attention to his mouth and I sit back, putting space between us.

"No."

He reverses out and winds his way slowly though the garage. City lights have started coming on, illuminating the murky dusk. I wonder if he's heard from Alec at all. My phone has been remarkably silent.

"Did he call you?" I blurt.

"Couple of texts, checking up. He has a GPS on your phone, you know."

Hardly surprising. "I'd suspected."

"Why?"

I smirk. "Because he's a controlling asshole, Masen. He likes to know who's doing what, when, where, and with who else. I doubt he'd let me ride around all day with another guy if he didn't have all sorts of intel on our location and activities. Even if it _is_ just you. Come on."

He chuffs, shaking his head.

"What?"

"You do a good job of acting like you don't know."

"Makes things easier. And anyway, I don't care. So."

"Are you hungry?" he asks suddenly.

Mel's Diner glows across the street, brightly inviting. "Yeah."

"What d'you want? I'll run in," he says, parking illegally.

"Can we just...eat here?" I ask, not wanting to go home yet.

He chews his lip, and then pulls back onto the busy street. "I'll have to find better parking."

It's a weekday, so Mel's is bustling but not packed. We're seated in a corner booth –Masen's request – and given time to order. It's not the first time I've gone somewhere with this guy only to have waitresses and clerks falling all over themselves to serve him. It's kind of ridiculous, and if I wasn't so entertained I'd probably be annoyed.

"You're doing it again," he says.

I peer over the top of my menu. "What?"

"Smiling."

"Yeah. People do it when they're amused."

"What's so amusing?"

"All these girls wanting to ride your dick."

He rolls his eyes.

"Please. Don't act like you don't know," I say, rolling my own.

"I'm not paying attention to them."

"Mhm. Then what're you paying attention to?"

"You."

"That's right, bodyguard. Don't forget it."

His eyes stay on me for a moment before returning to the menu. "I like you much better when you're like this."

"Like what?"

"Like not coked up."

"Ah." I sip at my cherry cola. "Yeah, me too."

"You're not fiending, are you?"

"Now that you mentioned it, yeah. I am. So stop talking about it."

"I wouldn't let you, anyway."

"I don't plan on actually doing it," I say, "but it I did, you wouldn't be able to stop me."

"Not physically, no."

Frowning, I'm about to ask him what the hell he's talking about when Ms. Googly Eyes with the Big Tits reappears, ready and willing...to take our order, that is.

It's Mel's, so we order loaded burgers and fries, milkshakes with cherries. This is the real deal right here, none of that cheap, over-processed crap from where the hell ever.

"So," I say, once Big Tits is gone. "How would you stop me?"

"From using?"

I nod.

"I'd ask you not to."

"Oh, because that works so well," I say, thinking of Alec. I play the docile game with him, but we all know that when it comes to my every day, I do what I want.

"I'm not Alec," he says, like he's reading my mind.

He's really not. He's got class and grace and a face too pretty for a guy, which is probably why he keeps it covered in stubble. He's got my respect, even if I don't always fully trust him. I mean, he might not be Alec... but he works for him. "Thank God for that," I say, averting my eyes.

Bt then the waitress leaves her number with our check, and before Masen can take it or leave it, _I_ take it, ball it up and stand. "Ready?"

"Bella," he says, holding out his hand for the paper.

I give him my hand instead, which is awkward for us both, and pull him to the front, where Big Tits is speaking with another server. She looks up right in time for me to jam the paper into her little apron. "Food was good, serving was lacking."

Masen and I separate the moment we're outside on the sidewalk, but my hand is still warm from his.

"What was that?" he asks.

I don't know. I don't even know.


	4. Dim

**_All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization._**

**_not beta'd_**

**_prompt - dim_**

* * *

_(we were seventeen)_

* * *

"Don't even think about it."

"What?" Alec had this sly little smile going.I knew he was up to something.

"You're plotting. I can tell."

"Maybe."

"Definitely."

He grinned widely, his eyes bright. I was starting to smile back, my chest expanding with the gladness and warmth our closeness brought when a passing freshman tripped by, stumbling a little too close. No harm, no foul, but Alec's switch had already flipped and he scowled, shoving the kid so hard he almost fell. "Watch it, jerk-off."

The kid held up his hands in apology, walking quickly away. Even in high school, people generally always wanted to be on Alec's good side. He was handsome, wealthy, charming, and connected. I saw how girls watched him, attracted to his game, and how other guys stepped around him, suck ups. Me? I'd known Alec since back in the day, since middle school. I didn't have to fake anything –he'd liked me way before I'd ever liked him that way.

I was fifteen when I finally gave him a chance, and after that, we were pretty inseparable. He rocked my world, absolutely. I'd always been more into books and academics than any sort of social scene, but Alec seemed to see beyond all that. Together, we bloomed...as individuals and as a couple.

By seventeen he was the only thing I saw.

"Hey." I tugged his jacket, bringing his baby blues back where they belonged: on me.

"Sorry, baby," he said, coming closer. We gazed at one another, letting everything around us fade. He pushed me gently against my locker and kissed me, his hand pressing something into mine. "Happy birthday, Bella."

I kissed him back until we were both breathless, and then opened my hand to see what he'd given me.

A little gold ring, with my birthstone. I started to slide in on, but he stopped me, grabbing the ring back and holding it up so I could see. There, on the inside, was an inscription.

_Forever._

* * *

_(but now we're twenty three)_

* * *

"You ready, baby?" He comes up behind me, hands resting on my shoulders. "We gotta go or we're gonna be late."

I nod, blinking away tears. Over the bay, the sun sets swiftly, painting the sky in soft blues and oranges. Even from up here, I can see choppy water and white caps, the water all riled up from the wind.

"I'll be right in," I say, needing a second.

He leaves without a word, and I wait for the sound of the sliding glass door to tell me I'm alone. It's my birthday, so we're having dinner at my favorite restaurant, Chez Panisse. It's hard to get a reservation there, but once a year, Alec ensures that we do. It gives me a glimpse of the old him, reminds me of the things that made me fall for him.

Excessive money and wealth can change a man though. Drugs definitely don't help. The kid I once loved has grown into an entitled, arrogant man. Even his eyes are harder.

A gale of wind shrieks across the hillside, and I shiver, finally noticing how damn cold it's gotten. Picking up my mug, I turn to go inside, pausing at the scene on the other side of the glass. Alec and Felix are discussing something across the room, and Marcus sprawled across the leather sofa, watching TV. Masen's sitting beside him, but he's texting, seemingly oblivious to his surroundings.

It's hard to believe he's as ruthless as the thugs he cavorts with, but I've seen first hand the damage his weapons and fists have inflicted.

Stepping inside, I place my mug in the sink. Alec clears his throat, suddenly at my side.

"I left you something for your birthday... it's on your dresser. Why don't you go look."

I'm not in the mood for games, or surprises, but I go, not wanting to ruin things. Making my way through the house, my mind wanders over what he could've gotten me this time. I have more jewelery and clothing than I know what to do with, and my phones are upgraded almost at whimsy. Ipods, ipads, laptops,whatever...once it was a car. That was way back when Alec actually trusted me. Well, to be fair, it was also before someone tried to run me off the road up by Grizzly Peak. To this day, I'm not sure if it was intentional or not, but Alec's so paranoid he's sure it was a message from one of many enemies he has.

Live by the sword, die by the sword.

We traded my Carrera for a bodyguard with a car and that was that.

I flick on the light in the bedroom, giving my eyes time to adjust to the dim light. There, on my dresser, is a little purple pouch. Inside, diamond earrings, next to a tiny pink baggie of coke.

My stomach twists painfully, and for a second, I consider snorting it. It would be so easy, and it would make me feel all right. Make everything light and all right.

But it's been a month since I promised Masen I'd stop, since I promised _myself_. Because as good as the high feels, the comedown feels several times worse, and I can't do it anymore. I don't like who I am when I'm strung out, and I definitely don't like who I am when I'm fiending. And maybe it shouldn't matter, but Masen treats me differently when I'm like that, in ways I hate. He's the closest thing I have to a friend these days, which isn't saying much. But still. I respected him before I even liked him, and now that I'm beginning to know him more, I like him a lot. Seemingly without meaning to, he's chipping away at the ice that's been building up around me for the past few years.

I'm thawing, and it hurts.

Part of me fights to retain some of that protective covering, that numbness – _just in case_. Masen might take care of me, but his allegiance is to my boyfriend. I can't ever forget that.

I stare at myself in the mirror, at my pale skin and the circles beneath my eyes. I sleep for hours and hours, and yet I never feel rested.

"Bella," Alec calls.

Sighing, I put the earrings on and shove the coke into my underwear drawer. I can't partake, but I can't quite bring myself to throw it away, either.

"Good?" Alec asks, when I join him and Felix at the front door.

Forcing a smile, I nod. He fingers my ears approvingly, smug and smiling.

I wonder when he stopped really seeing me. It was probably gradual, but there must've been moments.

* * *

I remember when birthday sex was exciting. When any sex was exciting.

Now I usually just fake it.

It's not even that he disgusts me. He doesn't – not physically, anyway. He just...bores me. And that's almost worse: feeling nothing at all.

Tonight, though, he's particular about making me come. For my birthday. I shut my eyes and then it's Masen I see. His eyes, his mouth. Gasping, I grab hold of the image in my mind, letting it carry me where I need to go. Alec comes right after. He jumps up and disappears inside the bathroom the second he's finished. I yank the sheet up, twisting on to my side, fisting the tears away.

Now..._now_... I feel disgusted. With Alec, but with myself, too.

In the morning, I wake up alone. A quick glance at the clock tells me it's just nine o'clock. For the first time in years, I have the urge to exercise. Nothing crazy, like running or aerobics classes, but maybe a walk. A long walk.

Masen's in the kitchen. I blush when our eyes meet, and he raises an eyebrow.

"Morning," I say.

"Morning."

Out of the corner of my eye I see him watching me. I make myself coffee and toast, taking extra time for butter and jam. We're almost out; I'll have to go to the store soon.

"So. What's on today's agenda?"

I sit with my plate and shrug. "I want to go for a walk."

"A walk?"

"Yeah." I nod. "Like, a hike."

He frowns a little, leaning back in his chair, hands folded over his stomach. It's been awhile since we spent time together like that. Normally it's errands. Or we just stay here, orbiting one another around the house. "A hike. I'll have to change, I guess. Put on sneakers."

I peek under the table. He's wearing slacks. Nice shoes. "Okay."

After breakfast I put comfortable shoes on. Masen's taking a while, so I lock up and walk down to his place, swinging my keys from my fingers. He answers as soon as I knock, holding up a finger because he's on the phone. I edge inside, leaning against the front door. Sunlight floods the living room, and from where I'm standing, I can see the bedroom door, hear Masen's voice murmuring quietly.

Blushing, again, I remember my dirty little fantasy starring him. I wonder if he ever has any about me. It's not like he's lonely. Masen might be busy taking care of me but I know he hooks up. All Alec's guys do.

"Okay, you ready?" he says, coming out of the bedroom.

"Yeah."

We head to Tilden. After parking and wandering around a bit, we circle Lake Anza and hit a couple of other trails. Except for a family playing frisbee near the lake, it's pretty quiet.

Masen and I are quiet, too. He keeps pace with me, although I know he could go much faster. I'm the out of shape one – he goes running at dawn every day. The only time you'd ever see me running is if someone was chasing me.

Eventually, we return to Lake Anza and plop down on the ground, sweaty. It feels good to have used my body, though, to be outside in the sun.

"So how was your birthday?" he asks, leaning back on his elbows.

"Fine," I say, shrugging.

"Nice earrings."

Staring at the water, I tuck my knees in and hug them. "Thanks."

"Don't sound so excited," he laughs.

There are so many things I could say about these earrings, but they'd all sound ungrateful and petty, so I keep my mouth shut. Instead, I lie back and close my eyes, remembering my beach on Grand Cayman. How hot the sun was, how peaceful the breeze.

"When's your birthday?" I ask, realizing I've never asked.

"June."

"So, we missed it."

"Well, I didn't miss it," he teases.

"What did you do?" He's quiet so long I peer over at him, shading my eyes.

"Went on a date."

"Oh. Where'd you go?"

"Place in Claremont."

"Cool."

"Yeah."

"You bring her back to your place?" I'd like to say the words just slipped out...and they did...but I can't help it.

He clears his throat. "Kind of personal, don't you think?"

"I feel like you know everything about me."

"Not really."

"You know a lot more about me than I know about you," I say.

"Knowing me is not part of the job," he says softly.

Stung, I sit up. "You're right."

He doesn't say a word, shredding grass into piles by his side. No matter how much I want to walk away, I won't. We don't have that kind of relationship; we barely have any kind of relationship. Familiarity and last night's random fantasy make me feel like we're somewhat close, but honestly, we're not. I think back over the year we've been acquainted, at the conversations we've had. Except for a couple times, most of our interactions have been superficially pleasant. Some, like the times I was coked up, have been unpleasant.

And he's moody. I realize this is the pot calling the kettle black, but really. Sometimes he's chummy and sometimes he's cold and serious. I never know what version I'm going to get. Maybe it's his way of dealing with me, of not knowing what version of me _he's_ going to get.

His phone rings, giving me an out. I get up, brushing myself off, and make my way back toward the car. By the time Masen joins me, he's finished with his call. He opens the doors and we get inside.

"I need to stop at the store really quickly," I say, buckling my seatbelt.

"No problem, " he says, reversing. We meander out of the park and onto the main road, which is busy due to rush hour. Guess we spent more time at Tilden than I realized.

"I brought her home, by the way. My date. On my birthday."

"Okay."

"I just...it's no big deal."

I nod, staring out the window. "No, but I get it. It's none of my business."

"No, it..." He pauses as we pull up to a light, and I can tell he's been thinking about this. "I shouldn't have said that. We're obviously...closer than we used to be. And we should be. I see you every day. We should know each other better. I mean, this...arrangement could last awhile."

I stare at my lap, listening to his rambling. "It would be like you were being paid to be my friend."

"I'm paid to take care of you. Being your friend is free." He touches my arm and I glance up. "Okay?"

It's one thing to trust him with my life, quite another with my feelings. Against my better judgement, I nod. I shouldn't trust him, but for some reason, I do.

Maybe he is different.

And even if it turns out he isn't, there's been a shift. He wakes me up.

Makes me want things.

* * *

**i appreciate the honesty, reviews, tweets, support, comments. i know this one is rougher, but i just had to write it. you know? you guys make the process so worth it, though.**

**few things: bella and alec have been together for years but are not married. also, it is possible to do drugs without becoming addicted. however it is a slippery slope and honestly, just say no. for reals. drugs are bad, m'kay? **

**xoxo**


	5. Game

**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

**not beta'd**

**Dialogue Flex: "Are you going to the game tonight?" he asked.**

* * *

"I miss my dad."

Alec squints at the screen before resuming his typing. I stare at him for a good minute, wondering if he's ignoring me. Maybe he just didn't hear me.

"Alec."

"Call him then," he says.

"I _miss_ him. I want to see him."

Sighing, he all but tosses his laptop aside and looks at me, bloodshot eyes tearing with fake pity. He got new stuff today, and he's been trying it out all afternoon. He's tried a couple times to get me to join in, but I told him I felt like my allergies were acting up.

I don't even get allergies.

When I was younger, my mother was an alcoholic. She'd drink herself to sleep every day, often napping through work and forgetting to pick me up from school. Someone eventually contacted my father, and I went to live with him when I was twelve. I'd never forget how pathetic my mom was, shuffling around in her bathrobe, a permanently mellowed out smile on her face.

Conversely, Alec's always been a functional addict. He's a control freak, even when it comes to himself, very Type A. He parties hard, but he works harder. Gets shit done. As a result, he burns himself out on the regular, but he's young and rich so figuring out ways to reenergize is always easy enough.

"What?" I ask eventually. He's still regarding me with that same corny expression, like _he feels bad but there's nothing he can do._

"You know what, baby."

I remember when he first started calling me baby. I loved it. We'd hold hands between class or in his Mustang after school. We'd lock ourselves in his bedroom for hours, fooling around between the sheets. He'd come, whispering baby, and beg me to come, _baby babybabbaby._ I've heard him sigh it, groan it, scream it, whine it...and now I hate it. It's a played out substitute for my real name and I'm over it. Over him.

Stuck.

"Charlie's a cop. You go, you'll never come back," he continues, palms up, like the matter's out of _our_ control when really it's just out of his. "I can't lose you now. You're... all I got."

"That's not true," I whisper.

Something dark passes across his face, and then it's gone, like the shadow of a cloud moving over the ground. "What part of it?"

"I wouldn't go for good," I lie. "And you're set, Alec. You have...everything here."

"Without you I'd have nothing." He insists, shaking his head. He's not usually this dramatic, and I wonder if coke is all he's done today. "Can't believe I'm hearing this shit. I've given you everything. Why would you ever leave?"

"I just want to take a break –"

"From me?" Tears run down his cheeks, but they're angry tears. Not sad. My heart rate spikes and I swallow, forcing myself to chill out.

"No, no. No. I mean, from...I just want to visit my Dad. For a couple of days. Masen could bring me. Or Felix. I'd come right back."

"Do I not provide?" he asks, unhearing.

Resentment swells; I feel like a balloon about to burst. I know it's the coke talking, but this is the kind of crap his father used to say to his mother, right before he'd backhand her. Alec hated his guts, and yet here we are, playing the same twisted game. They say violence begets violence, that it's generational, that it cycles.

We are a statistic.

"Yes, you do," I say, placating.

"Do I not give you everything?"

_You give me nothing._

"Yes."

"Six years and you're ready to run home to Daddy like a little bitch." He sneers, and I instinctively move, putting the bed between us.

"I won't go."

He watches me for a long, long time, unblinking. I stare back, refusing to back down, not wanting to give him any ideas. I can't have him thinking I'm shady. It's better that he think I love him, that I'm as devoted as I've ever been. Until something changes, until I have a plan, it's all I can do.

How much of his insanity is due to drugs? How much is a result of being given too much money and power, too quickly? How much is an attempt to prove himself to his father and the others?

Suddenly he sniffs. "I love you, Bella. I love you. We were like Bonnie and Clyde. Right? Like...like Al Pacino and Michelle Pfiffer in Scarface. Right? Remember? Remember when we went to go see it that one time? In that theater in the city? And I said you were just like her, but better. Not so fuckin' skinny. And you let me fuck you in the car afterward..."

He rambles on and on, reminiscing. I'd laugh, but I want to cry. As disconnected as I feel from the domineering, controlled Alec that I live with, I'm infinitely more wary of this melodramatic version. "I think you've done enough blow, Alec. Maybe you should...relax for awhile."

He nods, eyes brimming over. "I love you, baby. You take care of me."

My eyes brim with tears, and I turn to go. I pull my sweater closed and walk quietly to the door. "I know."

* * *

Masen follows along behind me as I wander through the grocery store. It's been awhile since I did proper shopping, so my cart is packed. Also, we smoked a little before coming out. May not have been the best idea, seeing that everything, and I do mean _everything_, appeals to me right now.

Masen chucks a pack of cookies in, lips quirking into a smile when our eyes meet. He's just as bad as I am.

Autumn in the Bay...the days run together, cloudless blue skies and sometimes bitterly cold nights. Alec's out more than he's in, but when he's in, he's all over me. Clingy. It's become exceedingly clear that I can't ever talk about leaving, never ever. Not permanently, not casually, not maybe, and not for a weekend trip to see Charlie.

So I resume my place at Alec's side as his wallflower non-wife, his placeholder, his bed-buddy. I read and I go on walks with Masen, longer and longer walks that last sometimes for hours. The longer the walks, the more Masen and I talk, and I come home from these outings both exhausted and refreshed.

I live, every day, to see his face. To learn something new about him.

It's almost Halloween, and there's candy everywhere. I grab a bag of chocolate right as Masen goes for marshmallows. "We should get these," he says. "Make s'mores."

"Okay." We grin at each other, like we've been doing all afternoon, and he adds them to the mountain of crap.

"Here, let me..." He takes over pushing the cart.

"Wow, what a gentleman," I tease.

"My mama raised me right."

"She sure did."

He glances at me, smiling slyly, causing my heart to skip. Not for the first time, something passes between us, a current of anticipation. Of want. I know it's mutual, but I also know that it's impossible. So impossible –and yet it's like this more and more lately. Ignoring my trembling, I reach up and fix his collar.

Someone with a crying baby passes, their shopping cart rattling loudly. Masen looks down, smiling a little.

"Maybe we should go before you buy out the store."

At home, Alec is drunk and rowdy, arguing with Felix about God-knows-what. Masen wisely slips into the living room while I quickly put the groceries away. Marcus joins us a moment later, going straight to the fridge for a beer.

"Are you going to the game tonight?" he asks Alec, who pauses mid-tirade.

"Who's playing, the Raiders?"

"Yeah, man."

"Yeah, we could go. Bella...?

I shake my head. "Not feeling well."

"Still?"

We both know I'm full of it, but he lets it go. After all, he doesn't really want me there, intruding on his little man-boy outing. They go all the time during football season; it's probably the most normal thing they do.

He stands behind me, close enough that I can feel his breath, and then leaves a wet kiss on my neck. "Don't wait up, then."

I don't bother to reply, and when I hear the front door open, I wipe the kiss off.

* * *

Masen and I spend the evening watching slasher movies. My hand hits Masen's whenever we reach for popcorn at the same time. I like it, even though the rush I feel is scarier than the stuff we're watching on TV.

Sometimes I find it odd that Alec would leave me alone in the company of another man, especially this often, but then I realize two things. One, he truly has deluded himself into thinking I'd never cheat (whether from fear or devotion I'm not sure). And two, he's never sees Masen and I joking around the way we do when we're off on our own. Our behavior around the others is distant and polite, the way it's been since he was hired. It's automatic, too, like there's this unspoken agreement to keep the two worlds separate.

We touch for like, the tenth time, our buttery fingers sliding together. I pull back, blushing in the darkness. Masen clears his throat. "Sorry, I'm being a pig."

"We're both being pigs," I say wryly, thinking about the munchies we've blown through tonight.

He chuffs softly, amused, running his non-buttery hand through his hair. "Yeah."

I love his hair. It's one of the things I tend to think about when get off. I imagine pulling on it, running my hands through it. I imagine it tickling my skin, maybe my thighs. "Is that your real hair color?" I blurt out.

Laughing, he stands up. "No, I go for touch ups at this salon downtown."

"Really?"

"No, Bella." He tosses a couple of popcorn kernels at me. "Can you really see me getting my hair colored?"

"No," I admit, rolling my eyes. "You're a jerk, by the way."

"Nah, you're just gullible."

I throw his popcorn back at him. "Actually, no. I'm not. I just trust you."

Sobered, he nods. "You should."

I stand up too, grabbing the bowl and bringing it to the kitchen. There's a small mess from dinner, as well as from Alec and the boys, so I get to work. Maggie, our housekeeper, comes every day, but leaving extra messes for her feels rude, so I make it a point to clean up after myself.

Alec would bitch at me for it, but Masen simply rolls up his sleeves and helps.

"Bet you wish you'd gone to that game," I joke, filling the dishwasher with detergent.

When he doesn't answer, I straighten up and look at him. I could be wrong, but I could swear he was just checking me out, despite the fact I'm still wearing the stuff I went hiking in earlier.

My chest tightens, in a good way, which makes my stomach tighten...in a bad way.

"I'd rather be here," he says.


	6. Pipe

**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

**not beta'd**

**prompt - pipe**

* * *

Felix opens my door, offering his hand in assistance, and I step carefully out onto the sidewalk. Alec follows, and once we're together he tucks my arm beneath his. We head toward the back door of the club, easily bypassing the line of hopefuls waiting outside to get it. This is my life, bloated with wealth and entitlement. There was a time when it excited me, when the perks were brand new. When Alec and I were a sure thing, and there was no one on earth who got me the way he did.

We've been through some things. He was literally at my side when Charlie sat me down to let me know my mother, Renee, had died of complications linked to severe alcoholism. And I was with Alec the night his parents split. His mother left that night, and though we both knew it was his father she was leaving, Alec felt like she'd abandoned him, too. For years we held one another up, and we did it with love. It's one of the main reasons I've stuck around, although things have changed now. Alec doesn't need me the way he thinks he does. The idea of me, the memory of what we were...those are his crutches.

An ongoing high, tons of cash, people to do his bidding, his father's approval...those are crutches too. They hold him up on his self-made pedestal. Not me.

I stumble a little, pausing to adjust my shoe. Alec waits until I'm sorted before pulling me along, eager to get inside. He loves clubbing, and honestly, sometimes I do too. It sucks that my enjoyment of it is marred by the company I keep, but I try to appreciate the good times when they happen. And anyway, Masen's here. He's behind us with Marcus and Felix, as well as a couple of older cronies the guys kick it with whenever they decide to be social.

Because it's Halloween, the scene is more macabre than usual. Everyone seems to be wearing red or black, and I've seen more slutty vamps and monsters than I can keep track of. It's entertaining to observe for sure; costumes tend to change how people act, whether they realize it or not. It's as if their make up and masks truly protect them, giving them leeway they'd never assume in real life. We didn't bother dressing up tonight, not really –I have neither the energy nor the inclination –but I did pair a white dress with my angel's wings, relics of Halloweens past. Part of me just appreciates the irony, but part of me also recognizes it for what it is: the craving for innocence in a life that's slowly hardening me.

An hour later we're in the VIP lounge, surrounded by people just like us. I don't know which of them are involved in the drug game, but that's because I purposely keep to myself. Alec would love nothing better than for me to join him in his endeavors, to be his true and equal help-meet. But that's just not who I am, or will ever be. Besides, ignorance can save lives. I don't want to be killed because I'm the keeper of secrets.

God knows I know too much already just by being around Alec.

"What d'you want, baby?" he asks now, squeezing my thigh. The serving girl standing in front of us smirks at him, and I wonder how long they've been flirting. I've been in my own world, people watching and only half listening to Alec. "Anther lemon drop, or...?"

"Lemon drop's fine," I say, watching the waitress. She ignores me, giving Alec another little smile before leaving.

It's not til later that I realize I'm not even jealous.

* * *

"Wanna hit this?" wheezes Alec, handing me a glass pipe. It looks and smells like weed, but I don't put it past him to add a little something. My sobriety, and by that I mean anything beyond booze and pot, is tenuous, and the smallest thing could push me back over.

I shake my head, giving him an exaggeratedly woozy look. "No. I'm straight. No more."

He laughs, squeezing my cheeks between the thumb and forefinger of one hand. It's a little rough, and I yank my face away, but he doesn't seem to notice. Or care. "That's cool. More for me."

"Yep. More for you." I drain the last of my drink and add it to the ever growing mess of glasses on the table in front of us. For as attentive as our pushy little waitress has been, she's been doing a crap job of actually clearing up the old stuff.

I've got a good buzz going, though. Alec's being more or less normal, and there haven't been any incidents. The music from downstairs is good, and while I have no desire to dance, I like listening to it. The lounge is getting a little crowded, though, and I do need to use the bathroom. I tell Alec where I'm going and stand, making sure my dress is straight before starting to walk.

The bathrooms are predictably packed, but there are a ton of stalls, so I'm able to get in and out in no time. I wash my hands and dry them, taking a second to check my appearance in the mirror. I take my time returning upstairs, soaking in the hazy colors and lights.

By the time I return to the group, Alex has graduated on to dollar bills and white lines, Felix is practically getting a lap dance, and Marcus is in a heated discussion with Nahuel and James, two guys I've been seeing more and more of lately. I sit down beside Alec, who instantly draws me close, his arm heavy on my shoulder, breath warm and wet and altogether too close.

Across from me, Masen's getting close to a pretty little thing with curly blonde hair. Like me, she's dressed as an angel, but unlike me she went all the way - halo, wand and all. I want to look away, but I can't. It's hard enough to pretend that Masen doesn't affect me in general, but seeing him like this...it's a slow motion train wreck, a gory car accident on the 580, and I'm a rubbernecking passer-by. Alec nips at my neck, and I push him away, but he thinks I'm playing so he laughs and does it again.

The angel-girl kisses Masen. He smiles, and then kisses her back, his hand high on her thigh.

I close my eyes.

_What am I doing?_

Masen and I...we're from different worlds. I might be the almost-wife of a mafia brat but I was a good girl once, the straight A-honor society-daughter of a cop. I might've traded that for this, but it's still inside me, and I cling to it. And Masen might be sweet to me, but when it comes down to it he's like the rest of these guys, taking what's given, and sometimes...even what's not given.

This girl, though, is definitely giving.

* * *

_I have no right. I am in a committed relationship, no matter how messed up it is. And if Alec knew what I was thinking, he'd kill me. And then kill Masen._

Alec shifts on his stomach, snoring a little. It's a new thing. I sometimes think it has something to do with the abuse inflicted on his nose.

I stare at the ceiling, slipping back into my thoughts. I managed to drink myself into a stupor last night, forcing Masen to leave his little angelslut at the club so he could carry me to the car. One, because it was his job and two, because Alec was three sheets to the wind himself. But the satisfaction was short lived. Masen _had _to do it. He was paid to do it. And if he'd had his way, he'd probably have been all up in that girl.

When I puked on the way home, I let the guys think it was from the alcohol alone.

Alec got new blackout curtains for the bedroom windows. They're great for facilitating sleep, but they do their jobs a little too well. Like right now, it's going on eleven in the morning, but in here it's so dark it feels like dawn. I get up and head for the kitchen, wondering who'll I'll find when I get there.

But there's no one around. No Masen reading a newspaper. I don't know what I expected, or what I wanted, but I can't deny the disappointment that settles down in my gut. Scrubbing my hands over my face, I turn the coffee pot on and wait, gazing out the window at the bay way beyond. It's hazy today, the sun playing peek-a-boo with the clouds. For all of the shitty things that've happened here, in this house, it's also a source of peace and comfort for me with its privacy and beatific views.

I take my coffee out onto the deck. The minimal sun tempers the cold, and though I probably could've put on something warmer, the fresh air feels good. Miles away, the Bay Bridge hovers in fog, and I think about the people traveling over it, wondering where they're going.

The sliding glass door opens and closes. Masen stands besides me, hands cupped around a mug. "Morning."

"Morning."

He shifts from one foot to the other. "How're you feeling?"

I scoff. "Fine. How are _you_ feeling?"

"I'm okay."

I nod, forcing my increasingly volatile emotions down deeper. There is no more denying it: I like Masen, a lot, and I'm jealous. I resent the situation I've allowed myself to get stuck in, and I resent that I can't have someone like him. Also, I resent that he's most likely as screwed up as the rest of them, even if he does have way more finesse.

The reality of it all hits me hard. I gulp down my coffee, relishing the way it scalds my throat, and turn to go back inside. Masen follows.

"What are you, my shadow?" I snark.

"For all intents and purposes."

Rolling my eyes, I drop my cup in the sink.

"We going to Tilden today?" he asks.

I'm caught off guard, and I almost say no, but then I think about it. A walk would be really good right now. "Yeah. Lemme get my shoes on."

Maybe it's because it's early on a Friday, but no one's around. I walk fast, just short of jogging. Masen stays at my side, and for a long time there is nothing but the sound of our breathing and footsteps as we crash over the leaves. Toward the end of our third time around Lake Anza, Masen clears his throat.

"What's up with you?"

"Nothing."

He pulls me to a stop, which startles me. Very rarely do we purposely touch one another. It's inappropriate, and dangerous. I yank my arm away, continuing on down toward the water's edge.

"Bella," he laughs. "If it wasn't 'nothing' you wouldn't be charging off toward..."

I stop, turn and head back toward the trail. He catches up, grabbing my hand, hard. "Did something happen? Hey."

Whatever bit of morning sun that was lingering before has now disappeared, leaving the sky heavy and gray. Beneath the canopy of trees, it's even darker. Masen flips his hoodie back, letting me see his face clearly. He's breathing hard, and I don't know if it's from the miles we've hiked or the bad energy between us.

And then, I just can't pretend anymore. There is so much I need to say, but the words are stuck. Tears blur my vision, and I blink them away.

"What?" he whispers. "You're freaking me out."

"Can we please...just go home?"

He looks like he wants to say more, but he nods, motioning for me to go on. We walk side by side to the car, the silence between is obvious and awkward. On the way home, he fiddles with the channels, unable to find anything worth listening to. The driveway is empty when we arrive, and I realize that an ignored text from earlier is from Alec.

_In Sacramento. Be home late._

His Uncle Caius lives up there, so I know it's all business. I used to be afraid when Alec went to go see him, but nowadays I know he can look out for himself. And anyway, maybe my life would be easier without him in it. The thought is like a punch to the stomach, and I bite my lip, horrified by who I have become.

Masen stands just inside the door, leaning against the wall. "I'll be home if you need me, okay?"

"Don't go," I say quietly. My heart races wildly, because I know.

_I know._

He's still standing in the same place when I spin around and come back to him, standing closer than I ever have. I lift my hands and rest them on his shoulders, and almost right away he puts his on my hips. If there was ever any doubt that my feelings were mutual, they're gone.

"What're you doing?" But he doesn't let go.

I can't look into his eyes. Instead, I stare at his mouth, the nearly reddish-blond stubble around his chin. The tiny scar that looks like a dimple when he smiles.

I kiss him.


	7. Glazed

**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

**not beta'd**

**Word Prompt:** Glaze

**Plot Generator—Binding Blurb: **In 500 words or fewer, write a blurb or a short entry about** staying true to yourself.**

* * *

It is, at first, just a touching of lips.

He stays so still, only his hands tightening on my hips before letting go.

But when I pull away, my heart beating so hard it actually kind of hurts, he follows, eyes open. He takes a step forward for the one I took back until it is me against the wall and him in front, and barely a breath between.

"Why?" His face is blank, but his eyes...are stormy.

I shake my head. I don't know what I'm doing. I mean, _I know _but it's not like I've given this much thought. Well, that's not true either...I've given a lot of thought to kissing Masen, letting him kiss me, all over, and then letting him do a lot more.

But he's not asking about that. Not really. He's asking me _why_. He wants to know if I have a death wish, because that's what kissing anyone other than Alec is.

"I don't..." I whisper, touching my mouth.

This is not friendly or platonic anymore, and even though I think we both knew that, I've now confirmed it. Our gaze stays locked, searching, like by crossing the line I've given us permission to acknowledge this thing between us.

He moves first, dropping his eyes."I should go." He motions toward the door, toward his house. "Just, call me if you need me."

I nod, and he leaves, closing the door quietly.

I could be so many things: sad, disappointed, wistful, but instead I'm numb, fingertips tingling.

_What have I done?_

* * *

I don't speak nor am I spoken to. There's no one here; I'm a ghost.

I leave the TV on for company and make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich when the sun goes down. I eat it with a beer outside, shivering, wondering when it'll be cold enough to see my breath.

Alec's phone call comes at eleven p.m. Yawning, I reach for my cell in the darkness.

"Hello? Alec?"

"Hey, Bel. Listen, we're not gonna make it home tonight."

"Why? What happened?" I ask, yawning again. He woke me up to tell me this?

"Nothing happened. I just can't make it back. No one feels like driving right now, you know?" There are voices in the background, and music. Someone laughs, loudly and close-by.

"Yeah, okay. I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Love you, baby."

"Love you too." I've told this lie so many times it doesn't even hurt. After disconnecting I silence my phone, not wanting anymore sleep interruptions. As luck would have it, though, I can't sleep. A night swim is supremely tempting, but being alone outside creeps me out. I could call Masen and ask him to accompany me, but in my heart I know that would be asking for trouble.

Instead, I run a finger over the touchpad of my laptop, bringing it life. The Chopin I downloaded last week is paused just where I left it before.

I press play.

* * *

In the morning, I text Alec, asking when exactly he'll be home.

I'm anxious and bored, and in the mood to cook. Making Alec's favorite foods is a sure way to lull him into complacence, my number one weapon in this war of which he doesn't even seem to be aware.

He answers about an hour later, saying maybe around five. It's later than I'm expecting, but I can't say I'm upset. The house will be quiet, just the way I like it. I go for my swim, making sure the pool's heated thoroughly beforehand.

I swim as many laps as I can before exhaustion overtakes me, and then I just float, watching the endlessly blue sky, dreading the moment I'll leave this warm cocoon for the increasingly frigid chill of late autumn. There's movement at the corner of my eye, and I follow it to the sliding glass door. The reflection makes it hard to see, but Masen is standing on the other side, watching.

I don't acknowledge him. For personal reasons, mainly, but also for practical ones. Unlike indoors, the patio and grounds are all tightly surveilled by a tight network of cameras beginning at the gate. The front and back doors, garage, even the walk to Masen's place are all monitored, although I don't know how often Alec or his guys actually watch them. It's more a safety measure, a way to keep track of who's around. And though it is Masen's job to look after me, there's a difference between keeping me safe and then watching me in a bikini.

Still, knowing he's nearby fills me with a jittery feeling I haven't felt in a really long time. After swimming back and forth beneath the surface a couple of times to rid myself of the sudden, excess energy, I get out, shivering violently. This might have been my last swim until spring, or even next summer. It's just too cold.

Inside, Masen sits at the table, pretending to read a newspaper.

"I'd like to go to the store," I say, taking my towel from my body so that I can wrap it around my dripping hair.

He glances at me for a split second before averting his eyes. "Okay."

"Okay."

"When do you want to go?"

"Soon."

"Ten minutes long enough to –" he gestures at my near-nudity "get ready?"

"More like thirty. But I'll hurry."

"No, just," he chuckles, rubbing his eyes. "Take your time, Bella. I'm not going anywhere."

After showering, I slip into boots, worn jeans and my favorite blue sweater. I leave my hair down, blow dying it quickly so that it's not wet in the cold. All of the signs are there: butterflies in my stomach, wanting to look pretty for him. I have a crush, and instead of being afraid, I feel as if it's giving me a new life. Something to live for.

Masen stands when I join him again, smirking at his watch. "Thirty minutes, huh?"

Shrugging, I give him a small smile. "You ready to go?"

As he lets me into his car, he clears his throat. "Alec called while you were in the shower. Said he'd be bringing a couple of people by later on, when they get back."

My heart sinks. "Great."

He pauses, then shuts the door and goes around to his side. "He, uh...wanted to let you know so you could buy enough food."

"So now I'm cooking for these buffoons, too?" I ask, making a face.

"Guess so."

Sighing, I buckle my seatbelt.

"You think I'm a buffoon too?"

I side eye him, but he's looking straight ahead, smiling.

"I don't know; are you?"

"Hey," he says, starting the car. "I take offense to that."

"Don't." I fiddle with the seat warmer, though I probably don't really need it with this body blush I have going on. "You know you're...nothing like them."

"Why not?" he asks, voice so quiet the question's almost lost.

"You're just different," I say. "You see me, and no one else does."

* * *

I only need a couple of things for dinner, so I'm in and out of Trader Joe's in fifteen minutes.

"That was fast," Masen says when I return to the car. He opted to stay there when I assured him I wouldn't be long, although he'd seemed reluctant.

"Told you."

"You mind if we stop at Genova's? I'm starving."

"Nah, go ahead. I'm kinda hungry myself."

When we get to the deli, he turns off the car and looks at me. "It's nice today. I thought maybe we could take these to Tilden, eat by the lake or something."

I look at him in surprise. After yesterday, what he's proposing sounds almost...date-like. "Yeah, sure."

His face remains impassive, and I wonder if he's thinking about the kiss. If he's going to say something about it eventually, or if he'll just shove it away as something that happened once.

At Tilden, we find a picnic area and eat at one of the tables. The grill looks like it was used recently, probably last weekend. It makes me long for simpler times, when I did things like that with Charlie, and even with Alec. Before he changed.

"Did you grow up here?" I ask. Masen's shared things about his childhood, but I realize I don't exactly know where he's from.

He shakes his head, wiping his mouth. "Chicago."

"Really?" I frown. "How'd you end up here?"

"Friend of a friend. Connections. You know."

That makes sense, I guess. While most of Alec's crew hail from the Bay, there are a couple of out-of-towners who came when referred. The reach of Alec's family...and I use that term loosely... spans more than a couple states.

"Do you like it?" I ask.

"It's okay."

"You miss home."

"Sometimes." He shrugs.

"I feel you. Of all the places I've been, I love the Bay best. It's home."

We finish up, making small talk about whatever. Alec's not back for another few hours, so we have time to relax before I have to start cooking.

"You want to take a walk?" Masen asks, stretching as he stands.

"Now?" I groan, rubbing my stomach. "But we just ate."

"That's the point."

"Ugh. Fine." I let him help me up. We find a place to toss our trash, and then trek into the woods, going instinctively for the trail we use most often. The sun's brilliant today, and it dapples through the trees overhead. After a couple of minutes, Masen slows to a stop.

I stop, too, looking around. Did he hear something? See something?

Before I can ask he's got me up against a tree.

"I can't stop thinking about it. About you kissing me."

My mouth goes dry. "Me too," I whisper.

He stares at me for a long time, and there's so little space between us that it's hard to maintain. I close my eyes and wait, begging silently for him to just do it. He knows how I feel; I laid it out yesterday. I have nothing else. My life is a monotonous facade, and it's killing me slowly. I think, maybe, I'd rather die for this than live to die with Alec. My desperation is astounding, its depth now apparent because I no longer snort it away. I feel it, every second of every day, and it's building. There's not much longer I can deal with the hopelessness.

I'm about to panic when he kisses me, finally. The pressure from his lips is the most welcome thing in the world, and I think that if I died right now it would be in gratitude. I grasp his jacket, pulling him against me, but there's no need because his body is already pinning me, his hands gentle on my face.

We open our mouths and let each other in. His tongue slides through my mouth and I'm so right here, right now, so awake. I clasp my fingers in the soft hair at the nape of his neck, relieved to have permission to do so. To taste, touch, feel.

This is who I really am, taking what I really want.

I don't know how long we stand there, kissing, but I do know I'm more turned on by his mouth on mine than I have been in years. And when he finally pulls back, his eyes glazed over, I know he's just as affected as I am.

"He'll kill us," I say, when we've let go and are walking back to the car.

Masen slides his hands into his pockets. "I know."

In the car, we are quiet. No music today, no radio. No idle chitchat.

But my lips thrum with the feeling of having been kissed well, and deep inside, I'm blossoming, years of neglect reversed with the sun of Masen's attention.

Halfway home he takes my hand.

Nothing's said, but it feels like an agreement.

* * *

_**thank you for reading. i appreciate you guys so very much.**_

_**xo**_


	8. Deadline

**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

**not beta'd**

**Word Prompt**: Deadline

**Dialogue Flex**: "Just one more," she said.

* * *

When we get home Felix's car is already parked in the driveway. It's unexpected, because Felix rarely leaves Alec's side, but then again...maybe Alec got home early.

But he didn't; Felix is alone when we walk into the house. Masen leaves the grocery bags on the island in the kitchen, nodding at him. "How'd it go?"

"Good, I guess." Felix crosses his arms over his chest, frowning. "I mean, everything went according to plan, but...I don't know, man. Something feels off."

"Why, what's up?"

"For one thing, Aro was there. You know he doesn't usually come down unless there's trouble, like people missing deadlines or starting shit...but I don't know. Alec seems to think it was just business as usual." He shrugs, scrubbing his hand over his face. "You get feelings, though, right?" They wander into the living room, speaking in low tones I can't hear.

Sucks to be them, I guess.

Relieved that all is as it should be here at home, I wash my hands and set out what I need to make dinner. I'm not sure how many people I'm cooking for, so my best bet is to prepare a feast. It'll make Alec happy, and that's what I need right now. I root through the cupboard above the microwave, searching for the notebook I use to keep recipes. It's like a journal of sorts, with dates headlining the entries and personal notes scribbled in the margins.

Directions for Polish _goulash_ and _pierogi_ are side by side, written neatly in the slender, graceful slope of Alec's late grandma Irina. I'd grown close to her in the years before she died, often visiting with her while Alec disappeared into his father's study to "discuss business". Not having known any of my own grandparents, I cried when she died. She'd wanted to see Alec and me married.

The fact that he still hasn't asked would probably break her heart, but not as much as seeing what he's turned into these days.

Washing my hands, I get to work.

* * *

Alec has been mercifully distant since coming home. This would be nice, except he seems distracted, and I'm so freaked out and worried that I can barely eat. Guilt ties my insides into knots. I don't look at Masen once during dinner.

The "guests" are James and Nahuel plus three girls I've never met. Like a lot of women in this life, they come off as conniving and jealous, laughing too loud, drinking too much, tits and ass and hips and lips. I remain the gracious hostess, wondering which of them, if any, Alec's had. He and I have never spoken about it, but it's an unspoken thing that most the men in the family have women on the side.

After awhile, it becomes apparent the voluptuous redhead, Vicky, is with James, and the petite brunette is with Nahuel. The third, a tall, thin girl with a sharp, blonde bob seems unattached, and I realize with sickening clarity that she's here for whomever.

Drug use aside, Alec usually keeps the bawdier aspects of this life away from me, as if I'm some delicate flower he has to keep pure, but he's been sloppy lately. It's the pressure, I know, but it's also the coke. The last couple of times I said something to him about it he snapped at me though, so I keep my comments to myself now. If his father realized just what was going on down here, I have no doubt he'd strip Alec of his duties.

And maybe punish him in other ways, too.

"Dinner was so good, baby," he whispers, suddenly cornering me in the kitchen. "I love it when you cook like that. Reminds me of old times."

I smile, nodding. "Me too. Glad you liked it."

"I didn't like it; I _loved_ it. Everybody did." He drops kisses all over my neck, and I shiver in all the wrong ways. His affection is unwelcome, what we have tainted, and I don't know how I'm going to keep him at bay. Or if I even can.

A tinkly giggle from the other room makes him chuckle, and he squeezes my behind. "These fools're trying get lucky. I think Katie has a thing for your boy."

My heart thunks into my gut. "What?"

"Katie. She's been dying to ride Masen's dick." He nips my ear and then saunters off to go play with his friends, doing Jello shots or something equally asinine. One of the girls...the little one, I think, squeals in excitement. "Come on, just one more," she says. I don't even want to know.

Shuddering, I throw my energy into cleaning the kitchen, scrubbing down the countertops and stove, packing the dishwasher. There's no help from Masen tonight; he's doing what he should be doing – participating in Alec's shenanigans. What happened today in the woods means nothing.

My throat closes and I bite the inside of my cheek viciously. _Get a grip, Bella._

Whether it meant something or not is not the point.

The point is to behave as if nothing has changed. The point is to survive.

When Alec collapses into bed later on, I pretend to be a sleep. He whispers my name, and I feel his fingertips dance across my arm before he rolls over and passes out. I swallow, glad that I'm off the hook. We've always had an active sex life, and turning him down repeatedly is going to require creativity.

If he'll even listen. He's not exactly logical these days.

I toss and turn all night, wondering if Masen is hooking up with Katie. James and Nahuel took their girls home at some point, but I don't know about the others. It's wholly possible that Felix hooked up with her instead, or Marcus. Or both of them. It wouldn't be the first time.

In the morning, Alec's on top of me before I'm even fully awake. I can tell by his dilated pupils and sniffly nose that he's already started his day and that's he's ready for what he couldn't have last night.

He kisses me sloppily and then goes down until I kick him away.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he asks, scowling and rubbing his nose. "Shit."

"I'm not in the mood..."

"What? Bullshit."

"No, I...please. Not today."

"Not today? It's been like a week."

"I don't feel good," I say, tugging the sheet up.

He laughs derisively. "You never feel good. You pregnant or something?"

"No." I scoff.

"Then come on." He climbs on top of me again, his hands everywhere. "Come on."

* * *

"I gotta make a run down south. You wanna come?" Alec asks, tossing a couple of things into a bag.

I'm sore and pissed off, and he knows it. "No."

"You don't want to do _anything_ these days," he complains, frowning.

"I get tired, Alec. Sometimes I just wanna chill here, watch TV...go shopping. I get bored on those trips."

"Hella spoiled." He smirks, and I want to throw up. Who is this guy?

"You know I'm okay by myself here, right? You don't need your guys to watch me 24/7."

"What?"

"Give Masen time off or something," I bluff. "Let him go with you."

"I didn't hire Masen to do that shit, Bella. I hired him to make sure you don't get messed with. He make you uncomfortable or something?" He arches an eyebrow, and I know he's thinking of the first bodyguard I had, this creepy guy Laurent. He only lasted a week before he got the boot.

"Nah, he barely talks to me anyway."

"Well good," Alec laughs. "I didn't hire him to be your BFF, either. He's the best there is, baby. He'll make sure you stay safe. I'd never leave you alone up here. How would you get around?"

It's a conversation we'd have a hundred times already, swear to God. "I've had a driver's license since I was sixteen. You _could_ just let me drive myself."

"And get driven off the fuckin road? No thanks." He zips his bag up and snatches it off the bed, along with a bundle of cash from the safe beneath the bed. "Masen stays, so shut it."

Which is what I wanted.

Meanwhile, Alec gets more and more like his father every day and after this morning, when he all but forced me...any pity I had is turning to hate.

"I'll be back in a couple of days. There's money by the sink; buy yourself something nice."

I stay quiet, letting him kiss my cheek before he leaves. The bedroom door slams, the front door slams, and then it's silent, the kind of silent that makes my ears ring. I'm still sitting on the edge of the bed when there's a quiet knock.

"Bella?"

And now I just want to cry.

Masen comes in, his eyes flickering over the rumpled sheets and me. He runs his hand through his hair, nodding. "You...want to go to Tilden today?"

"No."

He pauses. "What're you in the mood for, then?"

"I don't know." I rub my eyes, fisting away tears. "Did you sleep with her?"

"What?"

"The...blonde. Katie."

He links his hands behind his head sheepishly and I stand up, shoving past him. In an instant he's right behind me, practically on top of me as I walk down the hall. "Bella."

"Get away from me, Masen." It's hard to tell who I loathe the most: Alec, for being a manipulative dick, Masen for getting off, or me, for being a hypocritical mess. For being Alec's _whore_.

"Stop it," he says quietly, stopping just outside the kitchen. "Just stop."

Every day I see Alec lose it just a little more, but sometimes it feels like I too am falling apart, slowly imploding. I stare at the coffee maker, forcing back the feelings.

"Get dressed and meet me in the car." Masen's tone leaves no room for speculation, and neither does the way he shuts the door. Shaking, I turn around and go back to the bedroom. I slip into pair of clean jeans and a sweater and, because my hair is stringy and wet from my shower, I throw it into a bun.

In the car, Masen's got the heat on and the music up. He reverses quickly out of the drive, roaring down the driveway. The gate's barely open before we're through it.

"What are you doing?" I ask, defaulting back to numbness. "Where are we going?"

He ignores me, his jaw set. He didn't shave this morning.

"Masen."

"My _boss_ asked me to bring you to the spa to get your nails done. Said you needed to be pampered."

It's so utterly ridiculous that I'm speechless. That a man like this has been reduced to an errand boy, that we have to just...go along with these whims and fancies...I hope Alec never comes back. Ever.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, closing my eyes.

* * *

"Looks nice," he says, when I emerge from the nail place.

"Thanks." I have a headache from the fumes, but I suppose it's a small price to pay for being "pampered".

The silence between us hurts more than anything, and I grab his hand. "Stop ignoring me."

"You do realize this is impossible, right? You said yourself he'd kill us."

"And you said you knew. I thought..."

"What do you want from me?"

"I want to go to the movies."

His face changes so rapidly that it's almost funny. Except it's not, because he's enraged. "Stop fucking around, Bella."

"There," I cry, pointing to a nearby cinema. We're in downtown Berkeley and they're a dime a dozen. "I just want to disappear for awhile."

Cursing, he pulls over, shoves the car into park, and follows me into the building. We buy two tickets for the next movie, which has actually already started.

"The Godfather?" he whispers loudly. "Is this supposed to be ironic?"

"Shut up." I stumble into the back row, unable to see in the dark. Besides a couple down front, there's hardly anybody in the theater.

Masen plops down beside me, slouching, legs sprawled open. We watch the opening scene in uncomfortable silence, awkwardly aware of one another. I feel it, and by the stiff way he holds himself, he feels it too.

I ease toward him, taking his hand. "I wanted to be alone with you."

His eyes slide toward me. "You were alone with me."

"Not out there. I wanted..." I shake my head. "I wanted to just be with you. Where no one can see."

Nodding, he flips his hand so that we're palm to palm, fingers interlocked. I want to kiss him again. Thoughts of it consume me; my desire for him is worse than it ever was.

"She didn't stay, if that's what you want to know," he says, leaning toward me. "The blonde."

"But..."

"But nothing. She sucked my dick and left."

I bite my lip and look at the screen.

"Nothing worse than you and Alec, I'm sure."

My stomach twists. "I don't want to talk about him. He makes me sick. All of this makes me sick."

"So what do you want me to do?"

"Nothing."

We fall silent yet again. Connie's wedding plays out on the big screen, replete with loud Italian music and Sonny having sex with a bridesmaid. Douchebag.

"You want me to stop screwing around," Masen says, his mouth at my ear.

I shrug, chewing my thumbnail.

"And I will. So long as you know Alec notices everything, even if most of his brain cells are gone."

My heart skips; it's the first time he's ever said anything even remotely negative about Alec. Out loud, anyway.

"I'll do it," he repeats. "Even though I have to live with the knowledge that he still gets you."

"I don't want him to get me," I breathe, squeezing my eyes shut, trying to erase the feeling of Alec's this morning. "I don't want him to touch me."

"Hey." I look up at Masen. He kisses my mouth lightly. "When we're there, at the house, we're there. But when we're not...it's just us. Okay?"

I nod, and he kisses me until I can't breathe. I climb sideways on to his lap, slide my arms around his neck, and kiss him some more.

* * *

_**sometimes things get worse before they get better.**_

_**xo**_


	9. Defy

**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

**not beta'd**

**Word Prompts**: Apply, defy, rely

* * *

It has only been handful of days since Masen and I first kissed, since our dynamic shifted from something perceived to something tangible, but already being apart from him is difficult. We split upon coming home; he goes his way and I go mine. Alec and crew might be away for the next couple of days, but our housekeeper's hours vary by day, and the presence of cameras guarantee that my whereabouts outside the house would be noticed.

Still, Masen eats dinner with us a lot of the time –all the guys do –so it's not the weird when he comes back around dusk. We eat soup and salad in front of of the TV, paying more attention to each other and our conversation than what's on.

Alec doesn't call, which is odd. A frisson of worry tingles though me, but I shove it down, determined not to think about him if I don't have to. This morning proved that my situation is going from bad to worse, and that if I don't figure something out, I could lose a lot more than just my freedom.

"What's your favorite food?" I ask, leaning back against the couch when I'm done.

Masen shrugs. "I like a lot of stuff. Pizza...Chicago deep-dish style, of course."

"Have you been to Zachary's? Down on College?"

He smirks. "Of course."

"We should go. Their spinach and mushroom is to die for."

"That it is." He nods, scooting further back on the couch so he can extend his legs out.

"What else?"

"My mom used to make really good shepherd's pie. I like that."

"I've never had that."

"No? It's pretty basic."

"Have her...I don't know. Give you the recipe. Maybe I can make it one day."

He smiles at me, and I blush, wondering if maybe I'm being presumptuous. "I would, but, she passed away a couple of years ago. Both of my parents did."

"I'm sorry," I murmur, looking down. "I...my mom died when I was eighteen. We wren't that close, but, you know. She was my mom."

"Yeah."

"I don't know what I'd do without my Dad." Just saying it hurts, the pain of missing Charlie so deep it takes my breath away.

"Where is he now?"

"He and his wife live in Walnut Creek."

Masen frowns. "That's pretty close by."

Swallowing, I nod. "Yeah, it is. Alec stopped letting me see him a couple years ago though."

He narrows his eyes, leaning forward. "He doesn't let you see your father? At all?"

I shake my head.

"Why not? What's his deal?"

"Charlie's a cop. I mean, he used to be. He retired about a year ago." I close my eyes, thinking about back in the day, chatting with Charlie over breakfast. He'd always talk about upcoming retirement, how he'd probably travel and then come home to spend his days fishing. It hurts my heart to know that milestone came and went while I was stuck up here in my little castle on the hill. "He's never been crazy about Alec. He put up with him in high school because he saw how much I loved him, but when senior year rolled around he started pushing for me to apply to all these out of state schools, just...anything to get me away from the situation. Obviously he knew way more about the Dvoskin family than he was telling." I pause, standing, and start cleaning up. Masen helps me, and we carry the dirty bowls and plates to the kitchen.

"He like...flipped out when I told him I was going to put college off for a year and move in with Alec. I'd never fought with him so hard." Turning on the faucet, I rinse the dishes, my mind a million miles away.

"So you think that if you went back now, he'd keep you away?"

"I don't know; maybe." I shrug, watching Masen pour detergent int the dishwasher. "I wouldn't mind if he did."

Expressing these thoughts and feelings to Masen should be dangerous, but there's something in me that knows he'd never betray me. Somewhere along the way he went from being one of Alec's guys to my guy, and I can trust him. No doubt. Even if the depth of his feelings are nowhere near mine, I know he cares about me in a way no one else does right now.

"Maybe when Alec comes back we can talk to him. About Thanksgiving...going to visit your family. I'd go too, keep an eye on things..."

"You think I haven't asked?" I snort. "I suggested that very thing just recently and he shot me down in two seconds flat. He's not even trying to hear it. And trust me..." I put the dishwasher on and turn, folding my arms. "He means what he says. I tried to leave...right before you came on board. He caught me packing a bag and grabbed me so hard I had bruises all over my arms and neck."

It's a memory I try never to revisit. My stomach turns.

"He hit you?" Masen asks calmly. He's mad as hell, though, green eyes dark, fists clenched at his sides.

"No. That was...the closest he ever got. But it was just as bad."

"Yeah, it was."

"What, you got a soft spot for women?" I tease, not because I find any of this funny, but because if I don't lighten up I might vomit. Emotions course through me with such an intensity it leaves me weak.

"I've done a lot of things, Bella, but I'd never hit a girl. Ever. That's just...another level of shit."

"Good to know."

"Hey." He still sounds kind of upset.

Sighing, I make myself look him in the eye. "I know, Masen. I know you're not like that. Alec used to not be like that, either."

"But he is now, right? The past means nothing." He inhales slow, like he's trying to calm down. "I took this job to get paid, but I can't sit around and watch you get slapped around. You deserve better. I won't..." He shakes his head, staring out the window, the one that looks over the valley. "You can rely on me. I _will _take care of you." He touches my arm, and I just stare, taken aback by his earnestness. "Okay?"

It isn't even in me to fully understand what this might mean, but I know I believe him. So I nod, and hand him some leftover soup in a container for later, just in case he gets hungry.

"It's late. You should probably go."

* * *

In the morning, Masen wakes me up with a text.

_Get ready. I'll be there in twenty._

Blinking blearily, I squint at the time; it's barely seven. Groaning, I flop back in bed for a second and then haul myself up. I don't know about being ready in twenty, but I'll do my best.

Half an hour later we're headed down the road. The sun's not quite up yet, and the world still feels a little asleep despite school buses and general traffic. Frost and dew coat the grass, and as the sun rises, it shines through it, replacing the gray with gold.

I drain my coffee and stick the cup between my knees. "Where're we going?"

"San Leandro."

"For what?"

"Shooting range."

"What? Why?"

"Every girl should know how to handle herself."

"I think I can handle myself," I use air-quotes for emphasis, "just fine, thanks."

He glances at me as we sail through a yellow light. "Humor me."

By the time we get to San Leandro Rifle & Pistol Range, I'm more than just a little nervous. It's not the guns –I spent the latter years of my childhood around my father's firearms – it's Alec. I keep thinking about his creepy GPS, wondering if he'd see this outing as inappropriate. It's not exactly in the same vein as shopping, pedicures and cooking.

And then I feel pathetic for even considering him. He's probably passed out with some slut in an overpriced hotel room somewhere down south. The sudden urge to defy him, even without him knowing, appeals to me like nothing else.

Sliding my hands into the front pocket of my hoodie, I walk around to the back of the car, where Masen's retrieving a locked, black carrying case from the trunk. He makes sure it's secure, and then closes the trunk, nodding toward the range. "Ready?"

"Yeah." I follow him through the door, where he waits until we're safely inside to take my hand.

Masen's not a regular, but it's apparent he's been here before because he's familiar and chatty with the guy behind the counter. We find a pair of lanes side by side, where he gives me a mini lesson as he slides a pair of ear muffs onto my head.

"Any questions? Here, put these on." He hands me protection glasses before donning a pair himself. He looks pretty sexy like this.

But then again, he always looks pretty sexy.

"Uh..." I look down at the gun in my hand, _my_ gun, testing its heaviness. Masen told me a moment ago it was a .38 Smith and Wesson Special, but it looks like every other gun I've ever seen. When I mention this, he just says, "Your Dad probably has one."

The first time I shoot, even though I'm expecting the recoil, it startles the crap out of me. I freeze, arms stick straight, adrenaline racing.

"You okay?"

"Hurt a little bit."

"Make sure you're holding it like I showed you. Like this."

My next shot doesn't hurt at all, and I'm better prepared for the kick.

For the next hour, we shoot targets, Masen giving me directions during cease fire. He's a great shot, natch, while I'm predictably awful, but he promises we can make this a habit if it's something I want to pursue.

Guess he knows me better than I know myself, because by the time we leave I'm already thinking about coming back.

* * *

We go to Zachary's Pizza on the way home. I can't decide between deep dish and thin crust, so we get one of each and eat right there. It's the first time we've done something like this, and though I know we have to be vigilant, I can't bring myself to care. I can't, won't, stay penned up in the house day in and day out while Alec runs his business. And plays. And acts the fool.

So this is me, taking my life back. Even if I have to die trying. It's a sentiment that loops nonstop through my mind lately: life and death, and how they are inextricably linked for me.

"What're you thinking about?" Masen asks.

I shake my head. "Nothing. Everything."

"Okaaay." He makes a face and cuts another piece of deep dish for himself.

"Just...you make me happier than I've been in a while. I'm not so bored and...anxious all the time." I frown, tracing a pattern through a small pile of spilled salt on the table. "Well, that's not completely true; I'm still anxious, but it's different now."

"We can't get comfortable."

"No, I know." It's kind of surreal to be sitting here, discussing my ongoing infidelity so matter-of-factly. "He cheats on me."

Masen nods. "I know."

Having it confirmed hurts, regardless of all the other bullshit. "You've seen him?"

He lifts his eyes. "Does it matter? Would it change anything?"

"No."

"Do you still love him?"

"No."

Nodding, he wipes his mouth. "Good."

* * *

_**thank you for reading. i appreciate the reviews, the thoughts, the questions (though i'm sorry i can't answer, like, anything yet! aaahh!) ;)**_

_**xoxo**_


	10. Crystal

**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

**not beta'd**

**Word Prompt**: Crystal

* * *

Alec calls me while we're in the car, heading back up to the house. As usual, there's a ton of noise in the background, and it's difficult to hear him.

"What?" I repeat, plugging the opposite ear and shutting my eyes, as if sensory deprivation will help. "I can't hear you."

"I said sorry I didn't call last night. Phone died."

I decided to play the part of the nagging, worried girlfriend. Once familiar, it feels totally foreign to me now. "You could've used Felix's phone. Or someone else's. I was worried, Alec. If I didn't keep you updated on where I was you'd freak out."

"That's what Masen's for," he chuckles. What a liar. If that was the case, he wouldn't be keeping tabs on me via my phone. "He updates me. Anyway, I said I was sorry. Things got a little crazy."

"Business or pleasure?"

"Business, baby. Always business."

"Mhm."

"Anyway, I'll be back early tomorrow morning."

"You're staying down there?"

"I told you it would be a few days. Don't worry; I'm fine. Everything's good. Just trying to work a few kinks out."

"What kind of kinks?"

He laughs indulgently. "Don't trip. I'll tell you when I get home. Be good."

I wrinkle my nose, wondering when we went from equals to a sugar daddy and his little girl. Frankly, I think he watches too many movies, and spends way too much time with idiots that see themselves as larger than life. Everything he does is exaggerated, excessive. He's always had a flair for the dramatic, even in high school, but these days it's bordering on crazy.

But then I realize that he kind of is crazy. Coked up crazy.

"You listening?"

"What?" I say, dropping back into the conversation. "Sorry, couldn't hear again."

"I said put Masen on the phone!" he snaps.

"Fine." Without bothering to say goodbye, I thrust my cell at Masen, who's already got his hand out. He listens intently, muttering here and there, agreeing with whatever Alec's saying, and then hangs up. He gives me back the phone, shaking his head.

"Do you know what he's up to down there?" I ask.

"Drug deal. They're meeting with a new client. Someone interested in heroin."

Ugh. The thought if it definitely puts a stone in my stomach, but it's not surprising.

"Aro and Caius don't know about it," he adds, glancing at me.

"What?" I breathe, wide eyed. "Alec's doing this on his own?"

He nods. "He thinks that if he can secure the deal, he'll not only bring a flood of cash into the organization, but that he'll be able to set himself up for good."

"Money, power, respect," I say, shaking my head.

"Okay, Little Kim."

"What?" I giggle.

"It's a song. Nineties rap."

"Didn't know you were into nineties rap."

"I like the good stuff... but my older brother liked _all_ the stuff."

"How old are you, anyway?"

"Twenty eight."

"Oh." I pause, a little surprised. I thought he was younger...not that twenty eight's old.

"How old is your brother?"

"Thirty three."

"You have other siblings?"

"I'm the youngest of four. All boys."

"Wow," I say. "I'm an only child."

He nods, smiling a little. "I know."

"Oh, you do?" I tease. "What else do you know about me?"

"Your birthday's September thirteenth. You're twenty three. You come from French and German stock. You were born in Phoenix, Arizona, but moved here to be with your dad when you were twelve. You were on honor roll in high school and participated in the National Honor Society, as well as held several offices in Student Government. You were accepted to several schools, including Stanford and Berkeley. I don't know which one you chose, but you deferred enrollment, and now I know it was because of Alec."

I stare at him, shocked. Did Alec tell him all this? Did he Google it?

"And you want a dog," he says.

"Okay, that's weird. You a psychic as well as a stalker?"

"Do you really want a dog?"

"Yes!"

"That one was a guess," he admits, laughing.

I punch him in the arm. "How do you know all of this stuff?"

"I did my due diligence upon accepting the job. I always make a point to know what, and who, I'm getting into."

His wording makes me blush, and I turn my face to the window before he notices. It's been a long, long time since I felt the rush of a crush.

"That's good, I guess," I say, feeling awkward.

"What kind of a dog?"

"I don't know. A pitbull, maybe."

"Hm."

I've actually wanted a pet for awhile, but sometimes I wonder if it would be the best thing. Sometimes it's just easier to not be attached to anything, or anyone.

"So...he's not coming home tonight," Masen says, abruptly switching topics.

"Guess not."

"What do you want to do?"

"What _can_ we do?" I ask, frowning. "He's made it crystal clear that your job is to take me around on errands and stuff, not entertain me, and we've already been out all day." I look down at my phone. It's nearly four. "He...ugh. Knows everything."

"There are ways around it."

"Like, what, 'forgetting' my phone at home? He'd bitch me out for that."

"Trust me, there are ways," he repeats cryptically.

"Okay, so what do you want to do then?" I ask.

"What do _you_ want to do?" he asks. "You're from around here...there've gotta be things you used to enjoy before..." he trails off.

Biting my lip, I think long and hard about what I used to like. It's been a long time. Alec and I used to party a lot, even as teens, but there's a ton of stuff to do in the Bay, on both sides of the bridge. One of my favorite things was Chabot Space and Science Center, and the second it crosses my mind, I know it's where I want to go.

Masen's never been, so I explain the best I can and then direct him up in to the hills, to Skyline Boulevard. The views up here are incredible even during the day, but at night it's stunning.

We wander around, watch a show in the planetarium, and, when the sun goes down, stargaze through the telescopes. Seeing them so clearly is always an experience.

"I'd forgotten how amazing this is," I say, smiling as I examine what I think might be a constellation. "It's so clear tonight."

"Yeah, it is," Masen says, standing close behind me. I start to scoot over so he can look through again, but he holds me still, resting his chin on my shoulder.

My whole body gets warm, my heartbeat erratic.

"Do you want to go?" he asks, like he knows. Maybe he does know. Maybe he feels it, too.

I nod, and we leave without another word.

Outside, he tugs me around a darkened corner where there's no one around. He pushes me up against the wall and kisses me. My mind empties of everything but him, his taste, his smell. His hair in my hands. His lips trail down to my throat, and I can feel the second he starts pulling back.

"Let's go."

There's a nervous energy between us in the car. Instead of turning down the road that will bring us home, he ventures higher into the hills, up where the fog has rolled in. It feels like we're in the clouds, and I shiver in excitement, wondering what he's up to.

Eventually he pulls off and parks, cutting the lights. It's so quiet, like the fog has absorbed all sound. The longer we stay, the thicker it gets.

"Imagine if we got stuck," I say. "Because of the fog."

"I have fog lights," he assures me, taking my hand.

We fall silent, watching the last remaining lights down by the Bay get swallowed. It's eerie and beautiful.

I look over at Masen, knowing he brought me here because like me, he didn't want our time together to end. The house is too dangerous, even though we'd be alone.

I want to kiss him again. I want to do way more.

He looks at me in the soft dark. "Come here."

I take my seatbelt off and pause.

Pushing his seat back, he reaches over and grabs me, sliding me onto his lap. It's a tight squeeze, but he's got a, SUV, so, it could be worse. He pushes the seat back all the way and lowers it so we're nearly flat, and that's even better. I can't recall the last time I made out in a car, junior year maybe, or senior, but this is nothing like that.

Masen is nothing like that. He's quiet and intense, and he kisses me like he's memorizing my mouth. And even though I feel him hard beneath me he never crosses any lines, not even when I really want him to, not even when I'm rocking back and forth, lost and mindless in how good he makes me feel.

"I want you," I say, kissing his neck.

"I wish I could," he murmurs. "I...wish."

"You can."

"Not here."

"Why not? There's no one..."

"We could get caught. This is dangerous enough as it is."

Tears of frustration...and need...run down my cheeks, and I push my face into his shirt.

"Don't cry," he pleads, slipping his hands underneath my hoodie. He holds me tight, and kisses me sweet. He's right. I know he's right. But he makes me not care. Actually that's not true: he makes me care about nothing in the world but him.

And that might be the most dangerous thing of all.


	11. Patience

**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

**not beta'd**

**Word Prompt**: Patience

*_**mild violence and attempted rape in this chapter. please proceed with caution, especially if you're sensitive or triggered easily. i tried to keep it brief, but it wasn't something i could gloss over.**_

* * *

I fall asleep with Masen's taste in my mouth and his face on my mind. I wake up that way, too, which is why it's less than pleasant to then remember that my real boyfriend will be home in just a matter of hours.

I have no idea what state he's going to be in when he comes back, so I just focus on being positive...whatever that means...and hope for the best. I'll do whatever it takes to survive, even if it's unsavory, and even if it means choosing my battles. There was a time when things felt fated and hopeless, like I'd chosen my but now I do have things to live for, and seeing the way Masen looks at me, feeling the way he touches me, reminds me that I'm worth it to someone. Even if it's just one person, I'm worth it. It keeps me straight, even when my boredom, like when I'm alone with nothing to do in this big house, threatens to take over. It's the boredom that tempts me to use, but using makes me complacent, and that's my biggest enemy, not Alec.

So I'd rather feel pain than be numb again.

Masen's in and out a lot of the day, bouncing back and forth between his house and ours. He seems busy and a little distracted, so I let him alone, even if I do kind of live for the moments he pops up. I make him lunch and we eat together in the kitchen before he disappears again.

Alec, Felix and Marcus come back in the afternoon. I try to make myself scarce, but as always, Alec's overcompensating for having been gone, so he's all over me, touching and kissing me whenever he can. And even though he doesn't know _I know_, he's most likely also feeling guilty for screwing around on me. I know he loves me; he just no longer respects me or our relationship.

No problem. I don't love_ or _respect him.

In the weeks leading up to Thanksgiving, we all seem to fall into our own little routines. Alec and his guys take to spending tons of time behind closed doors, plotting and planning the rise of their little empire. They take trips done south all the time, though never staying overnight like that first time. Masen and I stay home and apart enough to avoid suspicion, but continue our walks in Tilden and grocery trips so that we can speak freely and steal kisses. It's nowhere near enough for me, or for him, but it's what we have right now. I believe he was brought into my life for a reason, and I can wait this out. I've had to have patience in every other aspect of my life, so this is no different.

Honestly, it feels like the calm before the storm in some ways. There's no way Alec can carry out his plans without being found out. His father Aro, and Uncle Caius...they have eyes and ears everywhere. And then there're the Feds. It's crossed my mind more than a couple times that there's a good chance we're all being watched. I imagine all these different roads, coming from various directions, headed toward each other. One day, they're all going to intersect.

And then...what?

* * *

"Should I bring this one?" Alec holds up one of his black Armani dress shirts.

"I prefer the grey Chambray."

He tosses the black shirt in his garment bag, but goes to the closest, returning with the grey.

I shrug, nodding. "I like that one. With the black pants."

He nods, too. "Yeah. Good. You ready?"

"I've been ready," I respond, my stomach tightening.

It's the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, and we'll be staying with Alec's father and stepmother until Saturday. Aro Dvoskin lives with his wife and their two children in Marin County, in a pretentious monstrosity that feels even colder than Aro himself. I hate Alec's father, and I hate visiting, but I suppose I'm grateful we only have to do it once a year. They usually leave town for Christmas, spending the holiday in some exotic location, otherwise we'd probably have to visit then, too.

This year might be the worst yet. For one thing, besides booze, I have nothing to fall back on to make the visit bearable. No coke, no empty sex, no numbness. For another, Masen won't be coming. None of Alec's guys are. The Dvoskin Estate is one of the most heavily guarded in the family. Bringing along our own protection would be unnecessary.

I don't know if Masen's flying home to spend the weekend with his brothers in Chicago, or if he has friends in the Bay. Either way, he's lucky.

I check my appearance in the bathroom mirror, fixing a stray lock of hair. I'm feeling especially glum because I haven't spent much alone time with Masen lately. Things have been hectic here at the house, with all of the pre-Thanksgiving prep. The one good thing is that I've only had to sleep with Alec once. He's been too busy, and then too tired, to harass me, and for that I'm grateful beyond words.

He doesn't know it, but that was the last time I'll ever allow him into my body. He can't have it with my permission, and he can't have it without. My heart belongs to another, and being intimate with Alec makes me feel like I'm cheating on Masen. I cried a lot the day after, to the point where Masen begged me to tell him what was wrong.

I thought he was going to kill him. Right there.

"Come on, Bella," Alec says, impatience sharpening his tone.

Leaving the bathroom, I flick off the light and snatch my bag and purse from the hastily made bed. We lock up and leave, trailed closely by Felix, who'll follow us across the Bay before heading back to spend his the weekend with his family.

The ride over is uneventful. Alec seems lost in thought, so we don't talk much. I cringe when he passes a classical station in favor of something more modern...it reminds me so much of Masen. His father calls at one point, and though I try not to listen, it's impossible not to hear. When we were younger, he truly despised Aro. His desire to take part in the family "business" was borne more out of his relationship with his Uncle Caius, a man who, while more brutal with outsiders, has always been affectionate with family. But as the years went by, whatever rifts between Alec and Aro were mended as they bonded over business.

And now, he's becoming just like him.

A flash of lights from behind us indicates when Felix falls away, leaving us on our own until Saturday. The Dvoskins live in an affluent San Rafael neighborhood, not unlike the Berkeley Hills. Fancier, I guess. We drive up to a gate, Alec presses the button, and we wait. The code is changed constantly, so we have to be buzzed in.

Tia answers the door, gushing over how good we look as she covers our cheeks in lipstick kisses. She's no wallflower, with bottle-blonde hair, bright red lips and a matching dress that leaves little to the imagination, but she's actually a nice person. I can't imagine Aro smacking her around, but you never know.

"Aro's in the study, honey," she says, her arm around Alec. "He's been waiting for you. You want to get set up, Bella? I had the room redone for you..." she rambles on and on about window treatments and duvets, her half full martini glass sloshing as she gestures.

"I should probably say hi to Mr. Dvoskin first," I murmur, leaving my bag in the guestroom. Aro's a passive aggressive asshole, and I can just see him taking my failure to greet him immediately as a personal affront. Power plays, mind games; it's par for the course.

Aro beams when he sees me, and Alec steps aside so that he can hug me.

"Bella, my dear. How are you?"

"I'm great. How are you, Mr. Dvoskin?"

"Fine, honey. When you gonna start calling me Dad, huh?" he chuckles jovially, winking at me, as I try not to grimace. "Looking good, looking really good." He smacks Alec's shoulder, something like approval painting his features.

"I'm going to...go help Tia," I say, nodding toward the door.

They're already closing the door as I step out. I take a long breath to even out my racing heart. It's a den of snakes, this place.

* * *

Dinner's alcohol soaked and tedious. Rachel and Rebecca, Aro and Tia's preteen daughters, sit around making faces and sarcastic comments while their mother gets plastered and their father drones on and on about politics and family matters. I excuse myself as soon as it's socially acceptable and escape to the guest room, where I change into my pajamas and climb into bed, hoping to be asleep by the time Alec joins me.

He wakes me up when he stumbles in around three, though, so it makes no difference. Knowing better than to be coked up around his father, he's more than made up for it with alcohol. He's sloppy and horny, though I know sometimes too much imbibing affects how he performs, and he's all over me.

"Come on, Alec, not now," I moan, genuinely exhausted. I push my face down into the pillow but he flips me onto my back.

"C'mon, baby..."

"Mmph...no..."

"You know, sometimes I think you don't want me anymore," he whines, pulling back to look at me in the dark. There's a little light from the bathroom, though, so I can see his annoyance. I love how he decides this _now_, when he's obviously been content getting it elsewhere for the past couple of weeks.

Yawning, I turn to go back to sleep, figuring that if I stall for long enough he'll pass out in a drunken haze, but he shoves me back over, wedging himself between my knees. He leans down to kiss me, pulling my panties down with one hand.

The need to protect myself from this invasion yanks me from my passivity, and I shove him away, clamping my knees shut the second he's far away enough.

"Dammit, Bella," he slurs, moving quickly despite his state. He grabs my arms so hard I know they'll bruise and holds me down. I know now that he means to take me by force, much worse than any other time. I can't.

I can't.

I manage to draw my legs up and in, and then I knee him in the lower abdomen.

He gasps in surprise and pain, then slaps me so hard I lose my breath. For a second I feel nothing at all, and then warmth, and then a deeply intense ache that brings tears to my eyes.

"Shit, shit, shit...baby I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he chants, reaching for me.

"Get away," I cry, rolling off the bed. My face feels like it's on fire, and now I wonder if he backhanded me. It was a smack either way, but he wears rings, and how he hit me will determine if I'm cut or bruised.

I've never been hit before, not in the face. I never fought in school. The pain is shocking, the humiliation worse.

"Bella," Alec sobs, getting off the bed. "I'm sorry. Swear to God, I'll never –"

"You promised," I say, choking on snot and tears as I run for the bathroom. I shut the door and lock it, ignoring his pathetic sniffling and crying.

I stay in there all night, making a bed of bath towels on the floor.

* * *

Aro raises an eyebrow when we run into each other in the hallway the next morning. "Might want to put some ice on that." Matter of fact, not concerned.

I lower my eyes and walk by, intent on getting a glass of water from the kitchen.

What a difference from last night, when everyone was lubed up with liquor. The house is still as a tomb; apparently the girls and Tia left at dawn to do Black Friday shopping. And Alec is still passed out upstairs. My stomach turns. I can't stay here. We aren't supposed to leave until tomorrow, but I've had enough. I don't want to think about what last night means for Alec and me. Things were already disintegrating, but that was like...another nail in the coffin.

My coffin, if I don't get away from him somehow.

I wonder if Masen would come if I called.

Upstairs, Alec is in the shower when I get back. I sit on the bed and wait for him, picking at a loose thread in the comforter.

"Hey," he says, standing in the door, toweling his hair.

"Hey. So, I think I'm going to head home. Masen or Felix or somebody can probably come get me, drop me off at the house or whatever."

"Nah, don't bother 'em. I'll drive you."

To say I'm surprised would be an understatement, but I just nod. I know he feels badly for what he did, and if he wants to cut his trip short to take me home, then good. I don't want to be alone with him, but anything is better than being stuck with him _here_.

I've generally avoided looking at my face, but I do before we leave. It's puffy and red, faint bruises purpling the apple of my cheek. Winching, I touch it, pressing gently against the skin. Knowing Alec did this to me hurts even more than the injury itself. It feels like I've truly lost all innocence now, like he's taken something away.

He can hardly look at me, either. He knows what he did crossed every sort of line there is. He knows. I'd like to pretend it'll change things, that it'll make him treat me better, but just the opposite is true. There is no turning back now.

Because his guilt will fade, I'll piss him off again, and his instinct will be to do this again.

Having slept poorly the night before, I sleep most of the way home. Alec shakes me when we're in front of the house, clearing his throat. I lean into the backseat for my bag, and then get out before he can say anything, shivering against the cold wind blowing up the hill.

But he opens his door anyway, calling out. "I'm...gonna be right back. I'm just gonna run down the hill for a second." We weren't supposed to be back til tomorrow night, so I can only assume he's going to the store to grab something to drink or eat.

God, I really don't care what he does.

Chilled to the bone, my fingers shake as I try to unlock the front door. The keys fall and, cursing beneath my breath, I lean down to retrieve them. I hope Alec calls Felix. I don't want to spend the night in the same house as him without a buffer.

What I'm not expecting is for Masen to appear suddenly. Startled, my heart skips a beat, and I'm so confused by the fact that he's here and not with his family I just stare at him.

He glares back. "What the fuck happened to your face?"

* * *

**xo**


	12. Rotten

**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

**not beta'd**

**Word Prompt – Rotten**

* * *

Swallowing, I turn away and proceed into the house. It's freezing, as housekeeping hasn't come yet to prepare things, so I go straight for the thermostat. "What're you doing here?" I ask instead. "Shouldn't you be...gone?"

"Could say the same for you," Masen says, not having moved. I shove the heat on and turn. We stare at each other for a bit before he edges inside and shuts the door, his face now pulled into a blank mask. "Bella, what happened to your face?"

I'm so embarrassed that I could cry. Ideally, we wouldn't have seen each other until tomorrow or even Sunday, and I was hoping that by that point my face would've looked better. At the very least I'd have been prepared, with make up or something.

It's not that I mean to lie to Masen, or downplay what happened, but it's demeaning enough as it is without the visual proof. I just...I want so many things. I want to hide inside myself. I want to be with him. I want to not be here.

"He hit me, obviously. Because I wouldn't have sex with him."

He comes closer. "Has it happened before?"

"Forcing me or hitting me?" I stride into the kitchen without waiting for a response. There's one six pack left, thank God. Anything to take the edge of. I grab a bottle of Motrin from the cabinet and pop a couple, washing them down with Sierra Nevada Torpedo.

And then he's beside me, uncharacteristically haggard. It's a gloomy day out, and the kitchen feels grey and muted. "Do you trust me?"

I nod. "Of course."

"Can you wait? A little longer?"

Frowning, I place the bottle on the counter. "Wait for what?"

"I'm..." he steps closer, slightly shaking his head. "You know it's just gonna get worse, right?"

Biting my lip, I nod again.

"We have to go. Leave."

"When?"

"Give me one week."

My heart trips and then starts to pound. "Where? How can we...go?"

"You just have to trust me, okay? And you have to act like everything is fine." His face contorts, and he reaches slowly for my cheek, fingers feather soft on my skin. "Okay? Just...act. And we'll be gone."

"_And like that, poof. He's gone_," I whisper, eliciting a smile.

"Exactly."

I'm afraid, but I'm also warm, inside and out.

* * *

Masen is gone by the time Alec pulls up fifteen minutes later. He definitely seemed off, like he was trying not to explode, and I have a feeling he means to keep his distance from Alec for awhile. It's for the best. The kitchen's neutral, my safe zone, so I stay there, thumbing through my recipe book while nursing another beer.

"I grabbed some stuff from that deli down in Rockridge," Alec says, resting a couple of bags on the counter. "Got that soup you like."

"Thanks," I murmur, eyes never leaving my notebook.

"Maggie'll probably be here in the morning, but you know...I was hungry as hell, figured you would be too. Got some more beer...hey, you want this soup now or later? 'Cause I'm eating now." He rambles on and on, the way he does when he's nervous. Being a little king means he's rarely ever nervous these days, but I guess not even Alec is immune to stuff like this.

Guilt. Regret. The cold shoulder. It's easy for him to overlook my gradual retreat, the one that's been stretching on over months, but when something like this happens, it's impossible to ignore. He's trying, though. Talking a mile a minute, as if by filling up the silence with sound he's filling up our emptiness, too.

Eventually I drag my gaze up to him. He flits around the kitchen, grabbing spoons and napkins and looking around like he doesn't know what the hell he's doing.

"I'm fine, Alec."

He looks at me, nodding quickly. "Okay. Okay."

He's silent for a minute, and I think he's going to leave, but then he comes over to me and touches my arm. It takes everything in me not to shrink away.

"Bella, I love you more than life. I know shit's been ill lately, and I know it's probably my fault, but I want you to know I'm sorry. I feel rotten about last night – I know I messed up. I know it. "

I can't speak past the lump in my throat, so I just nod, staring at his shirt.

"Baby, please look at me."

I do. His face is deeply earnest, his eyes a watery blue, though that's nothing new. He's probably coked up already.

He really believes what he's saying right now.

"Forgive me?"

"Fine."

Taking a deep breath, he exhales slowly, rubbing his hand over his head. "You sure?"

"Give me time, Alec. Just...give me a little space, okay? I love you, too, but you...you hurt me last night."

"I know, I—"

"Not just here," I interrupt, pointing to my cheek, "but here." I touch my chest, my heart. "So just give me time."

"Okay," he whispers hoarsely. He takes my hand, fingering the ring I've worn for most of our relationship. "We said forever, right?"

Slowly, he wraps himself around me, and I allow it, letting myself continue the lie. He sniffles and rubs my back, promising and whispering until it's just a hushed, distorted warble that I hardly even hear.

In the corner of the kitchen, nestled high above the cabinets, a tiny red light glows. I look right at it, watching it watch me.

* * *

Alec doesn't touch me again. We hardly even talk after that.

Felix comes around nine. He and Alec have a couple of beers, both studiously ignoring my face. Alec gets a call from Masen, letting him know "he decided to come back early". I pop a couple of Tylenol PMs and go to bed soon after.

When I awaken, there's no Alec, but there is a note and a wad of cash on the dresser.

_Do something nice for yourself. Get a massage._

_Love you._

Rolling my eyes, I crumple the note but keep the cash. I don't know what Masen has up his sleeve, but having funds never hurts. I take a long shower, shaving my legs and conditioning my hair. I put effort into my makeup and do my hair. I learned a while ago that one of the best ways to get out of a funk is to make yourself look good. Act, and the feeling follows.

I text Masen as I make coffee. Outside, it's another overcast day, not exactly making me feel enthused about, well, anything. But instead of texting back, Masen just shows up, and that makes me fluttery.

"Hey, you," he says, smiling, hands in his pockets.

"Hi Masen. Coffee?"

"Sure."

I pour us each a cup and bring them over to the kitchen table.

"You look nice," he says, eyes flickering over my outfit. It's just jeans and a sweater, but they're the best I have, expensive and form fitting. I know I look good in these. I wanted to.

Blushing anyway, I slide a spoon and the tub of sugar over to him. "Thanks."

We sip in silence for a minute.

"So what're your plans for today? Alec said to take you somewhere nice?" He seems subdued today. I wonder if it's an act, or if he's really just not feeling like his usual self.

Sighing, I sit back in my chair. "He said I should go get a massage or something. Because, you know, that'll help so much."

His eyes dart across my face. "I know of a place."

"Hey."

"What?"

"There's a camera I think. In here."

He nods. "I know. I put it there."

"Why?" And how?

"Remember what we talked about last night?" he murmurs, lips barely moving.

I nod, stirring my coffee.

We finish up and leave. My mind is whirling, but whatever Masen is up to, it's not for me to know at this point. I don't care. It just feels good to be out of the house, and we leave the windows cracked open a little for fresh air. I'm expecting him to take me down into Rockridge or maybe even into San Francisco, but instead we end up at the Claremont Hotel.

"I love it here," I murmur, gazing up at the grand, sweeping white building. It's old school beautiful, a total East Bay landmark. "I'd forgotten they had a spa here."

"I hear it's the best," he says, parking.

It feels private up here. Sure, it's possible that someone could see, but I feel like it's unlikely. I glance around the half full parking lot.

"What's up?" Masen asks, pausing with his hand on the door.

"Nothing," I say, feeling silly. "I just...wish I could kiss you right now."

His eyes soften, and gives my leg a quick squeeze. "We'll figure something out."

I feel a little silly for being so gushy right now, but he knows how much I like him. It's not exactly something I've kept a secret from him. Our days in the park, in the car, and even at the gun range do nothing but make me fall for him more and more.

We walk inside and find the spa, where I'm welcomed inside and encouraged to choose from among the luxurious treatments they offer. It's mellow and soothing and smells incredible. I feel myself relaxing, decompressing; maybe it wasn't such a bad idea after all. I'm glad I wore concealer, though. I don't think I could bear the looks of pity I'd be subjected to otherwise.

Needless to say, I won't be getting a facial today.

Masen lingers for awhile, and then touches my arm. "I'll be around. Call me when you're done."

* * *

An hour later, I feel like jelly. It's fantastic.

Masen grins at my relaxed, googly face as we walk out into the lobby. "Better?"

"Much."

"Good." He laughs a little, and he looks so gorgeous my heart clenches in my chest. "So you're all done?"

"Yeah, I am."

He pauses, and then nods toward elevators. "Come with me."

I don't know what we're doing, but my stomach flips as I follow him onto the elevator. He won't look at me once we're inside, but he takes my hand. We rise a couple of floors and then Masen leads me to a door halfway down the hall.

Now I'm trembling a little, because I get it. This will change everything between us, and I want it to, but it's still scary. It's forbidden and illicit...and sexy.

The room is spacious and light, with views not unlike those at the house. I can see the Bay up here, a distant bridge shrouded in fog. Kicking off my shoes, I rest my purse on the nightstand and pull my scarf from my neck.

"Is this okay?" he asks.

I turn around and he's right there. There's nothing keeping me from him now, no one to worry about. I'm not naïve enough to think that we can throw all caution to the wind from here on out, but for this little space in time, we're together.

"Very," I whisper, tilting my face so that he'll kiss me.

I link my fingers around his neck and pull him closer as he wraps his arms around me. He slips his hands down the back of my jeans and squeezes, skin to skin, making me shiver.

He kisses my cheeks, my nose, and then my mouth. I close my eyes, focusing on the way he kisses me, how it's both sexy and sweet. After a moment he pulls back, hooking his fingers beneath the hem of my sweater. He lifts it up and off me, taking the shirt I was wearing underneath with it. I shiver little in my bra, but he rubs his hands up and down my arms and back, warming me up. And giving me goosebumps. I take my jeans off while he gets undressed and then peel the comforter down.

"You okay?" he asks quietly, coming up behind me as I straighten up. "You're shaking."

"A little nervous," I admit. He lifts my hair and drops kisses all along the back of my neck, down to my shoulder and back up to my ear, making me shiver in a good way. He holds me from behind, hands on my hips, then my bra, slipping his thumbs underneath to my nipples. His fingers trace my ribcage and around, where they unfasten my bra and let it fall to the floor.

"So pretty," he whispers.

Tears spring to my eyes. "I don't feel pretty," I say, thinking about the bruises on my face.

"You are," he says. "Always." He moves to the other side of my neck, kissing the skin there. "I've always been attracted to you."

"I know," I breathe. "I mean, I could tell..."

"I knew you liked me, too," he says, turning me around and laying me down. He climbs onto the bed, settling beside me, fingers tickling along my hips and belly. "But it's a dangerous game, Bella."

"It is dangerous," I say, pulling him on to me. "But it's not a game to me."

Lowering down, he kisses me deeply, his tongue sweeping through my mouth. I kiss him back, wrapping my legs around him. We're pressed so close I can feel his heartbeat.

He moves down, kissing my breasts, sucking one nipple and then the other, making my breath come harder. I've thought about this so many times, seen him in my mind's eye exactly where he is now, kissing me, loving me like this.

I know, after this, that I'll follow him anywhere. I don't care.

He pulls my panties down, and instead of feeling like he's taking something away it feels like I'm giving it to him. He yanks his underwear off, and then it's just him and me, touching and kissing. I'm so glad this is finally happening, and in the daytime, so I can see everything, his eyes and how they see me, too.

Holding my face between his hands, he kisses softly where I'm bruised.

I push my hips up against him, and he almost slips inside. I reach down, but he pulls back slightly, looking at me, his eyes searching mine. There is this moment where something passes between us: agreement, promise... I don't know. But me? I'm telling him without saying it that I belong to him now, that this isn't just about feeling good for me, or forgetting. He looks at my mouth and kisses it, then sucks lightly on my neck, my ear.

Kissing me again, he eases slowly inside. I've never been with anybody but Alec, and I guess the mechanics of sex are always going to be the same, but somehow this isn't the same. It's different than what I've been fantasizing about, harder and deeper and bigger than what I imagined when it was just me and my desperate fingers. I fall open wider, lifting my knees, and he sinks deeper before withdrawing and doing it again, and again, and again, until we're _both_ wide open and wet and gasping and grasping. Our eyes meet for a second and he shakes his head, like he needs to say something, but I just dig my heels into him and clutch his back until he's lined up just right and then I come, and I'm not even quiet about it.

"Oh, my God," he whispers, and he bites his lip and glances down at where he's hitting it and that's it, he comes, panting and collapsing on top of me.

After a minute he rolls off of me and lies sprawled, chest rising and falling, eyes closed, mouth open. I prop myself up on my side and just gaze at him, at the lines of his body, how very hard and toned he is to my very soft and curved. He's so, so beautiful, so excruciatingly beautiful. I know now what it's like to have this man inside me, and I'll want him always, want his hands and face and...everything.

His eyes open, trail over ever inch of me. His eye lashes are so long.

"You okay?" he asks, running a hand over naked dips and grooves, my hips and tits and thighs.

I nod, inching closer and kissing him. I just want to be close. I don't know how I'll handle another week of not being able to do this when I want, but then I push that thought right out of my head because I don't want reality to sully this dream.

For now, there's just...now.

Masen smiles sleepily, draping me over top of him and then the blankets over us both. He holds my hips with his hands and kisses me with his mouth.

"It's not a game for me, either."

* * *

**man, i've been trying to get this done all day. thanks a lot, children, for being so demanding! jeeeeez.**

**also, bella quotes "the usual suspects".**

**xo**


	13. Howl

**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

**not beta'd**

**Word Prompt**: **Howl**

* * *

My life is all about lines being crossed. The drugs, the violence, the things I know about but choose to turn away from. Alec crossed one the night he hit me, and I crossed one when I made the decision to kiss Masen that day by the door.

We crossed a big one today, and there's no way I could ever tiptoe back to how things used to be, not even if I wanted to. It's just Masen and me now, bare and kissing, and when he gets hard again after awhile I let him inside like it's nothing.

Except it's not nothing, not at all.

It's faster this time, harder, tinged with desperation, like we're chasing completion this time instead of losing ourselves in the process. But that doesn't make it any less, and if I thought Masen was gorgeous before it's nothing compared to how he looks now, losing control when he bucks up into me, hands grabbing, stomach tensing until he sits up and hold me close, his face buried in my neck.

He slips a hand down between us, touching me until I come. It takes him longer; our first time wasn't that long ago. But I love it. I need it. I'm distantly aware that jumping from one relationship into another is not the best or the healthiest, but I'm not interested in _a relationship_. I'm interested in _Masen_, and all that he entails.

Alec thought he was getting a down-to-ride girl with me, and for awhile that's who I was to him. I stayed by his side for a long time, even when I realized we were getting him pretty deep with things I wanted nothing to do with. Turns out I'm still down to ride...just not with him. It's Masen. Always.

He pulls back a bit, tugging my chin down down so he can kiss me as he comes. We rock slowly back and forth, drifting back down like autumn leaves, peaceful.

"I have to take a shower," I whisper, kissing him all over his face as I climb off. I'm a total mess.

"Go ahead," he says, nodding. "I'll be right in."

* * *

Going home everything is different. There's a peace in my heart I haven't felt in a long time, like maybe everything is going to be okay. For the first time in awhile I have hope . I know that, in a week's time, things will be different.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't afraid, because I am. So afraid. But I've lived in fear of one type or another for so long that it's normal. Which sucks, but that's my life. At least this fear is tempered with hope.

There's no one home when we get back. Masen drops me off and returns to his place at the end of the property. I know it's important we maintain appearances but I hate it. It feels counter-intuitive, like we should be closer than ever right now, not separate.

I walk aimlessly around, listening to the wind howl up the hillside and scream through the eaves as I survey the immaculate kitchen and the clean floors. Maggie was here earlier, and it smells like she even started something in the crockpot. She does that sometimes. I think she feels sorry for me, but like all of our employees, she's bound by silence. She keeps her mouth shut, does her job, and gets paid.

My stomach growls, and I realize that for once Masen and I didn't go out to eat. I pad over to the crock pot and peer in, my mouth watering at the sight of what appears to be some sort of stew, packed with potatoes, carrots and dumplings.

Suddenly my phone rings, startling me. I drop the serving spoon and fish the phone from my bag.

Alec.

"Hello?"

"Hey, baby. You get that massage?"

"Yeah, I did. Thanks."

"They do a good job?"

I close my eyes, smirking. "They did. They...went really deep."

"Good, good. You deserved it."

I swallow the urge to say something rude. I deserve a hell of a lot more than a stupid massage, and we both know it. My silence probably communicates that, though, because he clears his throat after a second.

"So listen, it's gonna be a late night for me. Felix and I are down South..."

"You didn't tell me you were leaving again."

"Yeah, well, something came up. Don't worry; we'll be fine."

"I hate being up here by myself. It gives me the creeps." This is true, actually. I'm torn between wanting Alec Dvoskin to stay away from me and being nervous and alone. Ugh.

"You're not alone, baby. Masen's right down the road. Have him come up, stay on the couch or something."

I smile at my reflection in the window.

"Yeah. Maybe I will."

* * *

Masen and I have dinner together, and then he sleeps on the couch while I retire to the bedroom. Knowing he's so close makes me feel really good, even though I hate that he's out there and I'm in here. I'd never risk going to him, but every part of me cries out to.

Alec is in bed, fully dressed and on top of the covers, when I wake in the morning. I have no idea when he came in, and I'm careful not to wake him.

After coffee and breakfast, Masen takes me to the gun range. It's my fourth time, and while I'm no sharpshooting badass, I'm a lot more confident and capable than I was before. I'm able to hit my target a lot of the time, and Masen assures me that if I'm ever in a "bad situation", I'll definitely be able to do some damage.

I detest fighting and violence. I understand that they are an integral part of the life I lead, but I hate them. Knowing that I might one day have cause to inflict pain on someone else makes me ill.

"I'm surprised Alec hasn't said anything about us coming here," I comment, once we're back in the car and headed back to the Berkeley Hills. "Or that he hasn't noticed."

"I disabled your GPS." He says it so casually, but I'm a little taken aback.

"How?"

"It's not that hard. And if he notices, he'll just assume something went wrong electronically. It's not like you ever knew it was activated anyway, so you'd have had no reason to disable it yourself."

I nod, frowning as turn my gaze out the window. What he's saying makes sense, although I notice he didn't really answer my question. Sometimes I think there might be more to Masen than what meets the eye. He's trained well, that's obvious, but all of Alec's guys are to a degree. With Masen there's a little extra something, though. It could be because he's an outsider, someone who had be of a higher caliber, and had to prove themselves to get in. Unlike Felix, who's a blood relative, and Marcus, who Alec's known since elementary, Masen was referred in. If you're not family, and you're not a close, close friend (so close you might as well _be_ family) then you have to be spoken for.

I don't know who spoke for Masen, because I keep out of Alec's business – literally –but someone had to. Makes me want to know more, to ask more questions, but we'll have time for that once we're free. I don't want to put him in a rough spot, demanding things that could get him in trouble.

"Where'd you go?" chuckles Masen, running his hand over my arm. "You disappeared on me there."

I shake my head, unable to keep from smiling at him when he looks at me this way, sideways glances with eyes catching the afternoon light, a lazy, crooked, smile. I melt.

"Thinking about you."

"What about me?"

I bite my lip, not feeling like talking about the serious stuff. "Nothing. Where are we going? Tilden? I'm hungry."

"There's this taco truck..."

"Definitely."

"Yeah?"

"Yes." I give a decisive nod, belly already rumbling.

I put my hand on his lap, and he twines our fingers together.

We end up in the woods, somewhere off in the cut, way up in the hills. For someone who didn't grow up here, he sure knows his way around, especially the quiet, isolated spots with dreamy views peeking through the trees and lots of privacy. I sit on the hood while he stands beside, and we talk while we eat messy tacos, trading stories about when we were kids. This is the stuff I like knowing about him, because as imperfect as it can be, there's something golden about childhood.

He finishes before I do, and after we've wiped up with napkins and washed everything down with Mexican Coke, we fall silent, letting the forest sounds of trees rustling, birdsong and little animals replace our chatter. Pretty soon it becomes apparent that this time he's the one lost in thought, eyes unfocused as he stares at something unseen. I watch him for awhile, admiring him...not just the pretty outside, but the brave, protective inside. He makes me feel safe...and maybe loved.

After a second he blinks and turns, smiling slowly when he catches me watching. He comes closer, wedging himself between my bent legs, hands hooked beneath my knees. I'm wearing leggings today, so it's easier to feel where he presses against me. Maybe I'll always wear leggings.

Sometimes, like now, just his eyes smile. "Hey."

"Hey."

He grows serious, and we stare at one another until I get squirmy. "I used to think about you, sometimes," I say.

"Yeah? I used to think about you, too."

"I mean, like...I'd fantasize." My voice falls to a shy whisper, and my heart beats fast, even though he surely knows this. And even though we've already been so, so physical.

He nods slowly, his eyes cast down. All I can see are those long lashes. My heart skips. "What did you fantasize about?" he asks, just as hushed.

"About being with you. The way we were yesterday."

He nods again, a tiny smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "That it?"

My face burns, and I swallow. "I imagined you kissing me everywhere."

"I imagine kissing you everywhere, too."

I lock my ankles around his legs to keep him close so I can kiss him.

And I do. Over and over, I kiss him.

* * *

At home, James and Nahuel are in the kitchen with a tall, brawny guy I've never seen. My stomach tightens, and I wish, for a moment, Masen had come inside with me. We always assume that potential threats loom once we leave the house; we never think about what could happen here. Which is stupid, I know. Especially with the life we lead.

Felix and Marcus are usually around, and we trust them as much as anyone, but I don't see them. More importantly, where's Alec?

"Hi there, Bella," James says, leering. He's so gross. I've caught him checking me out more than once, in ways that make me feel naked. Then again, he looks at most girls that way...which makes it even worse.

"Hi," I say, clipped. My hand hovers on my phone, ready to speed dial Masen.

Then two things happen: Alec strides in from the direction of the bedroom and there's a sharp knock behind me on the door. I whirl around and peek through the peephole, relieved to see Masen's face.

"Hey," I breathe, once I've opened the door.

"Hey." His eyes are on the scene behind me, and suddenly I think about the secret camera. Does he...watch? Does he see what happens here now? He must. Maybe he works for another family. Or maybe he has a personal vendetta. Anything's possible. Unsettled, I let him in and shut the door, rubbing my hands up and down my arms.

Alec gives us a wave. "Was wondering when you'd be home."

"Manicure," I say, fluttering my fingers. It's a lie. Gel manicures last twice as long as regular, so I go way less than I used to, and it's not like Alec notices my stupid nails anyway.

It used to not be that way. He used to be ultra-observant, but it's like the pressure and the coke are dulling him down. It's destroyed our relationship, and it's affecting how he handles himself, how he runs his business. Even I can see that.

And so now he smiles blandly at me and nods, already absorbing himself to whatever's going on with James and his friends. I glance at Masen, who looks back at me.

"I'm gonna...go to my room," I murmur.

He nods quickly, and I disappear.

* * *

_**Aja (IReen H) makes me crave Mexican Coke.**_

_**ok. so, when you're reviewing, make sure you are SIGNED IN. it's ok if you want to be anon - "guest" - but i cannot answer your reviews/questions/concerns/rants if you are. ff net likes to sign you out randomly, so just, keep an eye out. also, i do not filter my reviews. ff net does that for me, and i have to moderate them and if i don't go on to ff net (like on sundays, b/c i don't post) then i don't realize i have reviews that need to be approved. **_

_**also, don't major on the minors. these are imperfect characters who make bad choices sometimes - like play with drugs and stay with psycho boyfriends. they do dumb things like hooking up with nameless blondes before getting serious with the girl they really want. is it yucky? yesssss. but do these things happen? yes. some of you are going to find this less palatable than others, i get it, but just...don't major on the minors.**_

_**that said, i appreciate you all and adore your candor and commentary. xoxo**_


	14. Drain

**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

**not beta'd**

**Word Prompt: Drain**

**Plot Generator—Idea Completion: Trick or treat...**

* * *

"How did you and Alec meet?"

"What, you mean you don't know that too?" I ask, only partly kidding.

"I don't actually."

We're sitting on his couch, after a long day of boring errands. Alec's been in and out of the house all day, running around like his ass is on fire. Around five he tossed me a fifty and told me he'd be back tomorrow. He's been more and more secretive lately, consumed with whatever it is he's doing. He barely reaches for me anymore, knowing better than to initiate sex or even kissing after the Thanksgiving nightmare.

Catching him in our hallway earlier, I'd grabbed his sleeve and asked what he was up to.

"_Putting something together, baby. After this, we'll be set. For life."_

I frown, remembering the way I'd felt when he'd said that. It kind of gave me the creeps.

"Bella?"

I glance at Masen, whose head is in my lap now. Running my fingers through his hair, I sigh, thinking about me and Alec in the beginning. "Seventh grade. I was still kind of new." I smile, remembering how gangly and cute Alec was back then. "He was a tough guy even back then, but he wouldn't let kids make fun of me or whatever. I ended up tutoring him in math...and we were just friends for a long time." I shrug. "Started going out officially sophomore year."

"So...you've never been with anyone else? You guys have stayed together the whole time?"

"Yeah, since I was fifteen. We went to the movies on our first date. He's obsessed with mafia movies, go figure." Thinking about Alec in that way makes me sad. He wasn't always a bad guy per se, but in retrospect I can see the signs. Hindsight's always twenty/twenty, though.

"What about you?" I ask. Lines of afternoon light filter in through one of the windows, giving his hair a fiery glow.

"What about me?"

"You know what," I say, giving his hair a little tug. "I want all the gory details of your past relationships."

He makes a face. "Ugh, why?"

"I like to torture myself."

"Would it really torture you?" he asks, sitting up. His hair is crazy now, and I muffle a laugh.

"Okay. There haven't been that many in the past few years, just so you know...this kind of lifestyle doesn't exactly encourage stability." I nod, because I get that. Felix and Marcus have nothing but one night stands. "But anyway... well, there was Sheila Murphy in eighth grade. Had a huge crush on her. Kissed her one night when a bunch of us were out trick or treating."

"Was that your first kiss?"

"Yes."

"What did she look like?"

"Long blonde hair, blue eyes. Freckles."

"You like blondes?"

"I prefer brunettes."

Rolling my eyes, I hit him with a pillow. "Mhm. Go on."

"There was Melanie Howell freshman year. We were kind of on and off...I don't know. She was cute, but a little crazy."

"Crazy over you, I bet."

"Yeah, right. She was my first, but I didn't find out til later that I wasn't hers."

"Were you upset?"

"I was more weirded out that she'd lied."

"That is kinda weird," I agree, wondering what he'd been like back then. "Were you like, a jock type? Or geeky?"

"Neither. I was just...average." He settles back against the couch. "I don't know...there were a couple of girls here and there but I didn't hit my stride til college."

"Did you become a slut?" I ask, feigning seriousness.

He stays really still and then strikes, tackling me playfully. "You really shouldn't have said that," he whispers, smiling down at me.

"I'm not afraid of you," I breathe, looking at his perfect mouth.

He sees me staring and kisses me softly, just barely touching his tongue to mine. "Not a saint, but never a slut."

"I don't know; you're kind of a saint to me," I say.

He shifts, and I wrap my legs around him. We make out for a while.

Earlier, after Alec, Felix and Marcus had left for good, Masen admitted to tweaking the cameras so that the feed focusing on the path to his house ran on a loop. As in, showing the same strip of nothing over and over. This way, we can visit each other without it being on video. It's risky for sure, but it doesn't matter because we only have to do it for a few more days.

Three, to be exact. Three days, and then I'll be gone forever. I wonder if I'll ever get to see Charlie again.

"Sometimes I think you're up to something beyond helping me out of here," I say, gazing at Masen once we've eased off.

"Why do you say that?" he asks, cocking his head.

"Because. All this camera stuff, the GPS...it's very Bond. James Bond."

"I'm just a computer nerd, Bella," he laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners. "It's one of the reasons Alec hired me. In fact, I helped him sharpen up his camera system when I got here so it would be more effective."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Hmm." We both know there are things he's not telling me, but I choose to trust him. I have to; I might have chosen him regardless of my circumstances, but as it stands, he _is my only choice_.

He rolls off of me, bringing me with him.

"So where will we go?" I ask quietly, looking out the sliding glass doors. It's a bright, pretty day, the sun peeking from behind puffy clouds. "When we leave?"

He doesn't answer me, and I look at him over my shoulder, but he seems troubled. It makes my stomach hurt. Something else occurs to me, something that makes me feel even worse. "Are we going to stay together after we get out of here?"

"Yes." Sweeping my hair to the side, he kisses my neck. "I promise."

* * *

Alec doesn't come until midday the next day. He smells a little like perfume, which is so cliché I can scarcely believe it. I bite back the comments I want to make, because not only am I doing the exact same thing behind his back, I want to make myself as invisible as possible these days. His drug use continues, and it makes him emotional. He's either snapping at me or reminiscing between phone calls. It's confusing, and I'm just glad I severed the emotional attachment on my side awhile ago.

But then he corners me in the bedroom, hugging me from behind. I don't hear him coming, and it startles me so badly I drop my phone on the bed.

"Whatcha doing?" he asks, rubbing his chin against my cheek. It's the closest he's gotten since the night he hit me. I wonder if he thinks about it as much as I do. I know from experience, though, that's it's easy to block memories and emotions when you're constantly high.

"Looking at pictures," I say, gesturing down at the phone.

"Mm. So, listen. I wanted to get your opinion on something."

Keeping my face neutral, I extricate myself gently from his embrace and sit on the edge of the bed. "Okay..."

Grinning, he plops down next to me and holds out a little black box. My heart speeds up, but not in the way I'd want it to, seeing something like this. I accept it gingerly, hoping to God it's not what I think it is.

"Open it," he prompts.

I empty a diamond ring into my palm. My mouth goes dry, and I swear I feel the blood drain from my face.

"I know things have been shitty, but I promise you...after all this? We're gonna go away for awhile. And it's gonna be me and you. Okay? I want...I know we've talked about this in the past, but I want you to think about it now."

"Think about what?" I ask, voice trembling.

"About...taking my last name." God, he can't even say it. If I was waiting on him for a proposal, this would've been a letdown. And it's so out of left field. Had he asked me a year ago, even though things were starting to deteriorate, I would've said yes. I still had hope back then. I might've regretted it afterwards, but I would've been all in.

Amazing how drastically things can change in a year.

Swallowing, I nod. "It's a little crazy right now, Alec. Let's not rush anything, okay?" I blink back tears and lean forward, kissing his cheek.

"No worries," he says, confident and chipper. He slides the ring onto my finger anyway. "Just to get used to it, right?"

I nod, stomach churning. Two more days.

Two.

"Love you, baby."

"Love you too."

That's the thing: he loves me. He loves me so much he'd never let me go. And with the way his feelings and erratic behavior swing back and forth, the darker side of his "love" - the possession, the pain – it's only a matter of time before he hurts me really badly, maybe even killing me.

Running is a risk, but so is staying. Leaving's the only shot I've got.

* * *

**xoxo**


	15. Chocolate Bar

**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

**not beta'd**

**Word Prompts**: **Chocolate bar, jelly bean, bubble gum**

* * *

It's oddly warm today.

Not summertime warm, but not winter cold either. I pull on a black, long sleeved sweater dress, figuring I can always pair it with an extra layer or two if we go anywhere.

We're down to one day. By this time tomorrow night, Masen and I will be gone. I'm as anxious as I am excited.

A Jolly Rancher rolls from the sheets as I make the bed, falling to the ground. Alec's always had a wicked sweet tooth but lately the junk food addiction seems to rival even the drugs. He's gotten a little skinny. Sometimes he chooses sweets over real food; I keep wondering if there's some bizarre link between drug use and sugar. I can't count the amount of times I've found stray jelly beans on the kitchen counter or bubble gum wrappers in couch cushions – and that's with Maggie cleaning most days. It reminds me of Halloween as a kid.

I toss the candy in the trash and text Masen, wondering if he's still around. We had our usual cup of coffee earlier, but then he disappeared, saying he had a couple of calls to make. Alec stuck around for awhile. though. He was in a good mood, tugging playfully on my braid, telling me he liked my dress. I think he thinks we're all good now because of the "engagement". He kissed me before leaving, and though I hated it, I allowed it. I'm so close to freedom...so close. I can't let anything rock the boat now.

The diamond ring sits on the nightstand, where I took it off before bed. Alec wants me to wear it, so I will, but its weight is unwelcome, amplified by my deception. I'll more than likely sell it when I leave, because besides the cash Alec leaves me, I have very little money. I now realize this is yet another way that he controls me. I can't have a job, so I must rely on him to give me what I need. I slip the ring back on now, wondering what Masen will say when he sees it.

Masen messages back, saying he's on his way. I text back, letting him know I need to do shopping, just in case he thought it was another Tilden or hiking day. I pull on socks and boots, wrap a scarf around my neck, and grab a light coat just in case. The Bay Area has as many microclimates as it does people, so I could end up freezing just as easily as I could sweating.

I have no idea where Alec is. Last night, after the proposal, I told him I might go shopping in San Francisco today. He'd liked that, suggesting I buy a couple of new things for upcoming holiday events we were expected to attend. I don't like not knowing where he is, even though he's generally all over the place. He could be in L.A. or in downtown Berkeley; I just don't know. Masen and I will have to proceed with caution, regardless.

There's a knock at the door. I grab my purse and leave, quickly locking up before walking with Masen to his ride.

"We're going into the city, right?" he asks.

I nod, buckling my seatbelt. "Yeah. Alec wants me to get new clothing for Christmas. Dresses, stuff like that."

He nods, changing the song on his iPod before reversing in the driveway. "No problem."

"So...Alec gave me this," I say eventually, lifting my left hand.

Masen's eyes flicker over, away, and then back. He narrows his eyes. "That an engagement ring?"

All of a sudden, the significance of it hits me really hard, and I close my eyes, swallowing back a sob. I might no longer be in love with Alec, and I might be afraid of him and maybe even disgusted by his lifestyle and the choices he makes, but a part of me mourns the loss of what we once had. He was my first love.

That it's ending this way is awful.

I feel Masen pull over, and when I open my eyes, we're in the parking lot of a gas station.

"Want to talk about it?"

Wiping the back of my hand across my cheeks, I check the mirror in the visor, making sure I didn't just ruin my eye makeup. "I don't know."

"It's an engagement ring."

"Yes. He thinks..."

"What do you think?"

I give him a look like he's crazy. "What do you mean?"

"You're upset, and I get it, but it means nothing. It doesn't have to mean anything you don't want it to." He pauses, running his hand through his hair. "It's a promise _to him_...but to you, it's just a prop. Okay?"

Sniffling, I nod, eyeing the way the ring twinkles in the sunlight.

"We all play parts, Bella. Sometimes it's life or death, you know?"

"It's just...it came out of nowhere," I say. "Things have never been so bad and yet, he's in la la land, planning our frigging wedding. I...he's losing it, Masen. He's in denial."

"He's in denial about a lot of things." Exhaling roughly, he sits back. "Kid's gonna lose a lot more than just you with the way he's been running things. He's impatient, and he does shit without thinking."

"Like what?" I ask, realizing Masen knows a lot more of the particulars than I do. Well, I mean, I knew that. But hearing him allude to it this way piques my interest.

He chews his thumbnail for a second, and then pulls up t a pump. "Gimme a second. I'm gonna fill up as we're here."

All around us, people go about their day. A young mother with a pink stroller stands at the corner, waiting for the crosswalk. Two kids in puff coats and jeans goof around near the convenience store, laughing loudly. People swing in and out of the gas station like clockwork, refueling and flying off to God knows where. Will it be this easy for me to become another face? How far will we have to go?

I peek out at Masen, who happens to be peeking back at me. He bites his lip and smiles, motioning for me to put the window down.

"You want anything from inside?" he asks.

I shrug, then glance back. It's 7-11. "Chocolate bar for later, maybe?"

Nodding, he replaces the gas pump and grabs the little receipt printout. The tension in my chest dissolves as I watch him walk away. I love him in those jeans, and I love the way he walks, his understated sex appeal, his swagger.

He's the opposite of Alec in so many ways. The fact that I can go from one to the other says worlds about how I must have changed, as well. How blind was I before? My last fight with Charlie comes to mind, accompanied by the same ache that always comes with thoughts of him. He's around here somewhere, but he doesn't know where I am.

I want to see him again before I disappear.

* * *

By the time we hit the city, and find space in the parking garage, Masen's more or less brought me up to date on Alec's plans. The people he's been meeting up with, like the huge guy I saw in the kitchen, run business a little differently. They're from South L.A., and they're not a _family, _for one thing. For another, they've only been on the scene for the past five years or so. They deal mainly in coke and heroin, but Masen's pretty sure they deal in arms, too, which is another can of worms completely.

Like Felix, Masen's concerned because these guys seem shadier than your average criminal. I'd laughed when he said that, but I understood where he was coming from. He says there seems to be very little loyalty among them, so who's to say they'll treat Alec any better, ultimately? And he brought two of them up to the house that one time, a huge no-no. I can see more and more why Aro and Caius would have Alec's balls if they knew. All that blow and the promise of unimaginable wealth are blinding Alec, making him take huge, stupid risks, and I'm just glad we're about to distance ourselves.

The plan is to go to the supermarket tomorrow afternoon...and not come back. I already have a bag packed and ready to go at Masen's.

For today, though, we're still playing the part. I know the stores I want to go to, so I waste little time in grabbing several dresses. Shopping wasn't actually what I was in the mood for today – it's merely an alibi for my prolonged absence from the house – so I keep it snappy.

Knowing that Alec no longer has access to our exact whereabouts is so freeing. Masen and I have lunch at a sushi place I love and then make our way back across the Bay.

We end up where we always do, nestled in the trees and high above the clouds. We've cut out most of our smoking, mainly to keep clear heads in light of our circumstances, but today we have time, so we spark up. It's just a pinner, but it's perfect, the atmosphere cool and peaceful.

"Can't be doing this...after," Masen says, outing the roach.

I'm sitting on the hood, eyes half closed, face turned toward the sky. It's cold up here, and the fog's rolling in, but the last bits of sun linger, determined. "Because it'll be dangerous?" I ask.

"Yeah. We'll have to be extra careful. No illegal stuff."

"Good." I've had enough "illegal stuff" to last several lifetimes.

After a moment I feel his hands on my bare thighs. "Back to wearing clothing that isn't warm enough, I see," he teases, tickling below my knee.

I try to squirm away, but he holds tight, pulling me closer to the edge. "It's enough," I say, laughing. "Your hood's nice and hot, too."

"_Your_ hood's nice and hot," he says, and the tone of his voice makes me open my eyes. I think about what he just said, what he's implying, and my mouth drops open.

"Did you just make a pervy comment?"

"What?" he says, grinning. "Never." His hands run higher, parting my legs.

I shiver and smile, and start to reach for him, but he pushes me gently back down with one hand as he reaches higher beneath my dress with the other. His fingers are cold, and I jerk when I first feel them, but then he pulls me up anyway and kisses me. He kisses me dizzy, the wind wisping cloudy around us like it's kissing us, too.

"You make me feel like I can have anything," he says suddenly.

I gaze down at him, surprised, because he's usually so tight lipped with his emotions. "Me too," I admit. He makes me feel a lot more, but I don't know if I can tell him.

He kisses me again, deep and fevered, and then pushes me back so I'm laying down. He hooks my underwear to the side and proceeds to fulfill my last remaining fantasy, going down on me until I'm a mess...emotionally, not just physically. He picks me up and takes me back inside the car, into the backseat. I'm shaking, light headed and breathing hard from coming like that, shocked in the best way that he'd do what he just did.

"I really want this right now," he says, running his hands all over me. "Do you want to? Up here?"

"Yes," I cry.

He adjusts and splits me wide open across his lap, bringing us together. It's fast, and the door's open, and there might be fog coming inside. It's crazy and romantic and if I live to be a hundred I think I'll always remember this.

When he comes he kisses me; he always does. I grip his hair and kiss him back: his lips, his cheek, his ear.

"I think I love you, Masen," I whisper. And it's okay if he doesn't love me the same. I just need him to know in case everything goes to shit.

But his arms tighten around me. For a long moment, there's silence, and then he pulls back so he can see my face.

He pushes my hair from my eyes and says, "My name is Edward."


	16. Saint

**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

**not beta'd**

**Word prompt: Saint**

* * *

I have often wondered if fog absorbs sound. I've wondered this about snow, too. Things can get very quiet when you're in one or the other. Abruptly, I'm aware of that silence right now, like the trees themselves are waiting for a response to what has been said.

I shift on Masen's...Edward's...lap. We gaze at each other, and I try to work out what he just told me.

"Edward Masen?" I say eventually.

He looks down, eyelashes dusting his cheek. "Edward Cullen."

If I am completely honest with myself, there have been certain possibilities that have tried to surface in my mind. Possibilities so far-fetched and unbelievable I'd shove them right back down, unable to handle the emotional consequences of what they might mean. These possibilities stand in full light now, begging for me to acknowledge them, but I'm stubborn I guess. I want this man, this man whom I barely know apparently, to just...say it.

He won't though. I think he wants _me_ to just say it.

"You're a cop," I whisper, hoping to God he'll laugh the way he does when I say something especially naïve.

But he doesn't. His grip tightens even more, and he brings his eyes back to mine. He nods once. "Yeah."

I sit back a little, looking at him. There was always something about him, but I'd thought it was just...chemistry. Our chemistry. Or charisma. I mean, Alec used to have something about him, too. Never in a million years would I have imagined Masen was a cop. The times my instincts whispered that he wasn't who he said he was, or that he might be more than I knew...I just thought he was protecting himself in case things went bad. From another family, maybe. Or, I don't know.

My stomach twists, and then, like fog, that old numbness starts to creep in. Swallowing, I get off of his lap, feeling a little dirty now. How much of this is real and how much is an act? I hear the things he's said to me over the past few months, the months we went from protector and protected to lovers, through new ears.

Even yesterday...

"_...it means nothing. It doesn't have to mean anything you don't want it to." _

"_It's a promise to him...but to you, it's just a prop. Okay?" _

"_We all play parts, Bella. Sometimes it's life or death, you know?"_

"Stop," he says, grabbing my arm.

I freeze in the awkward position, feet on the ground but my upper body still inside. "Please let me go," I whisper.

Realizing I'm sensitive to being held down or grabbed, he releases me immediately and I step away, yanking my dress down. I pull my panties on with trembling figures, scarcely remembering him taking them off. We were so lost...

"Bella, stop," he repeats, buckling his pants.

I run my fingers through my hair, trying desperately to fix it. My heart beats so fast I could be dying. Every thought I've ever had slams violently around my head and I just wish, I wish, I could smoke some more. I just want it to be as silent inside my mind as it is out here. Taking my sweater from the hood of the car, where we left it after fooling around earlier, I slip it on and start walking deeper into the forest.

He's at my side, pulling me gently to a stop, pushing me even more gently up against a tree and it's our first kiss all over again but it could be our last this time. The realization turns me to liquid and tears brim over, wetting my cheeks.

"Do you trust me?" he asks. "Because I trust you, Bella. I trust you."

He's too beautiful to look at, so I close my eyes. "Yes. I trust you with my life."

"This doesn't change anything. I –"

"This changes _everything_," I sob, covering my mouth.

"No, it doesn't." He looks so sad, and it's an expression I realize I've seen hints of before. "You know the essence of who I am. I let you in, Bella, and it's a mistake that could kill us both, but I did it because..." He shakes it head, pulling roughly at his hair. "Shit! Because the feelings I have for you are not professional. Not at all."

"Did you choose me on purpose?" I ask, wiping my eyes. "Did you...let me come on to you so that I'd fall for you? So I'd tell you things?"

"No. I didn't need you for that." His eyes dart around. "But...you don't understand. I've been Masen Hale for three years. It...has become who I am. I have to fight to retain who I really am, but then I have to keep it down because it could be dangerous. Every decision I make, I make it with two minds. Would Masen do this? What are the consequences to Edward if I do?"

"You make yourself sound crazy," I say, sniffling.

"Sometimes I think I am." I think about what he's saying. How long he's been under.

"How did you even...get in with Alec?"

"It wasn't easy." He scrubs a hand over his face. "Look, I can't say too much more. I just, I want to come clean with you. I've wanted to so many times, but I didn't want to compromise my cover. Even this is so, so risky. You can't say anything. You can't let him know you know."

"Why the hell would I?" I murmur, folding my arms.

He traces his knuckles down the side of my face. "You called me saint once. I'm no saint, Bella, but I keep my promises. I will do everything in my power to get you away from him and to keep you safe."

The world as I know it has shifted on its axis. In finding out who Masen really is, I realize I no longer know who I am.

Pushing off from the tree, I pick my way back toward the car. The soft, fuzzy high from earlier has worn off, as has the romantic glow we were tumbling around in. Now it's overcast and chilly, and the fog is just creepy. Reality is bleak and rough. Inescapable.

He opens my door for me and I climb in. I stare at him as he walks around, wondering why on earth he revealed himself to me. He said it was because his feelings had changed –intensified, I guess –but he could've waited. Or maybe just continued lying until we were free. Or something.

Just looking at him makes me want to cry. And I hate it. I'm numb, and then I'm aching, numb, aching. Both are uncomfortable, both hurt. He gets in, locks the doors, and starts the engine, but we don't move. He looks at me.

"So when does your assignment end?" I ask.

"Tomorrow night."

"Were you assigned to get me out or something?"

"I was assigned to assist in taking the Dvoskin crime family down. There are two other agents working on this case, but I've been deep undercover the longest. You were just..."

"Collateral damage," I mumble, breaking my gaze. "A complication."

"A complication I chose to become entangled with, and one I can't regret." He pauses, placing his hands on the steering wheel. "Do you?"

I don't know what I feel. I meant it when I said I loved him, but these revelations confuse me. I love who I think he is. Right? What's love without honesty and trust?

"I'm a little in over my head, here. Not with the assignment," he says quickly, "but with you."

"The thing is...Edward... I trust you with my life, but I don't know if I trust you with...anything else."

And that's the crux of it. It falls heavily between us, maybe smothering our light.

* * *

Alec pulls in about two minutes after we do. He kisses me in the kitchen and disappears into the bedroom, probably to do some more damage to his nose.

Masen...who I refuse to call anything else until we're far, far away from this house and these people...is back at his place, probably fine tuning or surveilling or plotting or I don't even know. He's got to have people he checks in with, right? Do they have codes and signals? Secret meetings under bridges or at Trader Joe's?

I'm actually a little surprised when he shows up later on. I watch from the hall as he grabs a beer from the kitchen and joins the others in the living room. All the guys are here now, watching some game on the widescreen, drinking and smoking and yelling every time someone does something on the field.

Heart hammering, I'm suddenly irrationally terrified for him. One slip up, one person figuring it out, or knowing and ratting, and he'd be killed. Brutally.

I remind myself that he's been doing this for years. I take another shot of vodka.

I've been drinking since we got home. I knew he could see me from his little camera, but I just didn't care. I need to be not here right now, not in my own mind. The coke in my underwear drawer taunted me until I flushed it down the toilet, and even then I felt sick from sobriety, like the reality of what was happening, and going to happen, was clawing at me from the inside out.

So. Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow...I might die.

Around eleven I tiptoe to the kitchen to take one last shot before going to bed. I'm a little hungry, too, as I usually am from hours of imbibing, and I'm picking at leftover pizza when Masen finds me.

"Hey," he says, popping open another bottle of beer. "You okay?"

I shrug, mouth full of pepperoni and cheese.

His eyes look back and forth between mine, and he sighs. "Go to bed, Bella."

"Already on it, Sir," I slur, giving him a fake salute.

He doesn't smile, and neither do I. I turn away, rinse my hands, and leave the kitchen, feeling like I'm leaving my heart in there, too.

* * *

I wake suddenly, with a jolt.

It's hard to tell what time it is, but I think it's so late it's becoming early. Blinking in the dark, I wait for my eyes to adjust. Alec's not beside me.

Why am I even up? I have a headache though, probably from all that vodka. I'd been too out of it earlier to bring my usual glass of water to bed, which means I'll have to go get one. Yawning, I get up and go to the bathroom for Tylenol. A look in the mirror as I retrieve what I need from the medicine cabinet tells me I look how I feel: like crap, puffy faced and red eyed.

I'm halfway down the hall when a loud crack halts me in my tracks. My heart seizes, and hot-cold tingles prickle through my fingertips: fear. The sound...a gunshot... came from the living room I think, but I can't tell. Trembling, I tiptoe to the mouth of the hallway and peek out.

Across the room and down the three steps leading into the sunken living room, Felix is asleep on the floor. The television's still on, but muted. It's freezing, and as I venture out further, I realize two things: the sliding glass door is open, and, Felix isn't sleeping.

He's dead.

My throat closes. Terror shoots up my spine, wringing my stomach out, killing my heart. I back into the hallway and turn and run, returning to the relative safety of the bedroom. I'm shaking so hard I can barely pick up my phone, and even then I'm having a hard time dialing.

Masen appears, and I nearly scream, panic stealing my rationale.

He almost runs to me, his face hardened by focus and purpose. "Put on a jacket and shoes and let's go."

"Is this –?"

"Not me. Not planned. We have to go. _Now_."

I shove my feet into a pair of sneakers, forgoing socks, and pull a warm coat on, glad I started wearing clothes to bed. Falling out of love with Alec meant not wanting to be so readily available at night, and now the fact I'm wearing leggings comes in handy.

Two gunshots ring out; glass shatters. Someone yells, and then I hear Alec, cursing up a storm. I'm simultaneously relieved he's not dead and terrified that he's so close-by. Masen grabs my arm and pulls me out of the bedroom, only to shove me back into it when the sounds of a scuffle start up.

"Shit," he murmurs.

Several shots ring out..

"That's right, motherfucker," Alec laughs – _laughs_ – and then he's right in front of me, a gun in his hand.

I flatten against the wall as he passes. "What –"

"Not now, Bella. What the fuck." He goes to his closet and starts tearing it apart, looking for something.

I glance at Masen, but his eyes are trained on Alec, who eventually looks up and sees him.

"What's going on?" ask Masen.

"What the hell're you doing here?" Alec snaps.

I try to ignore the blood on his shirt, the grotesque black eye.

"Heard shots, so I came to make sure you were okay," Masen says.

"Not okay, but not dead either, know what I'm saying?" Alec's pupils are dilated, eyes wild. "But you can't take her outside, man. They could still be out there. Just hang out in here awhile."

"Who?" I ask.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up," he chants, shoving bullets in to the chamber of his gun.

"I don't think she should be here," Masen says evenly, and I wonder what he knows. He must've been outside just now, right?

"I think you should keep quiet and chill," Alec says, and now his voice is wobbling. "You see Marcus?"

Masen shakes his head.

"Gotta find him. And I have to...did you see Felix...Felix..." He wipes his nose and leaves, running silently.

A second later Masen nods at me, and I follow him down the hall. The body of a man I don't recognize is slumped in the foyer, a dark stain spreading from beneath it. I look away, trying to return to numb mode, but I'm way too frightened.

"Bella, no!" Alec yells, returning suddenly. Marcus is beside him, holding his arm, blood dripping from his fingertips to the wood floor. My stomach heaves, and I shut my eyes, taking several deep breaths.

I have no idea what is going on right now, but Alec's not the guy I knew. He's crazed and doped out of his mind, highly agitated, and a murderer. Every cell of my body screams at me to flee _now now now!_

"I said to stay!" he cries, waving his gun. "How the hell're you gonna go running outside like that, when I told you to stay? These were not the only ones!" He gestures to the dead guy at my feet, and then sags. "Baby. Come on."

"I gotta go," I whisper.

Masen begins to open the door, but Alec shoots it. Wood cracks and splints off.

"What're you doing, man?" Masen yells, hands up. "Damn!"

"You can't take her out there! She could...I can't lose her," he cries, face red. "Bella, come on. Go back to the room. Okay? We'll figure it out." He walks over and cups my face with his free hand, but all I see is blood and sweat, and all I feel is the gun in his other hand, brushing against my thigh. "Go home, Masen. I'll call if you I need you."

"No."

Alec blinks, turning slowly to Masen. "What?"

"No."

Alec aims the gun at him. "I said go home."

"I'll take her with me," Masen says. "Just for the night. It's not safe up here."

"_Take her with you?_" repeats Alec. His fingers tighten on my cheeks, nails digging into my skin. His eyes burn into mine, like he's searing his way into my brain. "You fucking her or something?"

I wonder if he's suspected and denied this in his mind, if he's seen the signs. Have I been obvious; have we been sloppy? Have we been followed, tailed, photographed? Is Alec just paranoid and jealous? All of the above? None?

"Alec, stop," I plead, grabbing at his hands. But the idea's in his head now, and I can see the gears turning. He's thinking about the absences, the times he's seen us having coffee in the kitchen. And we could be as innocent as children, but it would mean nothing because now the idea has taken hold.

The fact is I want to leave with someone else, someone who can give me what he can't: protection. It doesn't matter that _he_ hired Masen.

But then he lets go. I reach up to rub my cheeks. Marcus moves to sit on the ground, and I wonder how badly off he actually is, if there are other injuries I can't see.

Masen takes a step back, probably anticipating Alec's next move, but nothing happens. Alec pulls me away from the door and opens it.

"Get out," he says to Masen. "Now."

"I—"

He presses the barrel of the gun against Masen's forehead and whispers, "now."

Masen takes a step out, and before he can do anything else, Alec kicks the door shut. He rounds on me, so close I feel his breath.

"I told you not to fuckin' try me, baby.

"I wasn't..."

"I told you not to leave. You were gonna leave with that fool?"

I shake my head, but he smacks me, hard, one cheek and then the other.

"You fuckin' him?"

"No," I cry, terrified enough that the pain barely registers. Over his shoulder, Marcus and I make eye contact, but he doesn't do a thing. A sob rips through me.

Alec grabs my arm and starts to pull me back toward the bedroom, but the window by the door explodes with a shot. There's another shot and Marcus flies back, crumpling into the corner.

Alec shoves me to the floor and turns to meet Masen.

* * *

**so, like 99.89% of you guessed it, haha! damn.**

** i love you. do you have any idea how hard it's been to not answer? **


	17. Declaration

**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

**not beta'd**

**Word Prompt: Declaration**

**Dialogue Flex: "I think I blew it," she said.**

* * *

Alec's already shooting, but so is Masen. If noise had color this would be blinding: the boom of bullets being fired and the shriek as they pass in close range. The crunch of glass underfoot as Masen charges through the broken window like an angry god, the responding grunt of Alec's rage as he fires his rounds.

In the movies, people often seem to miss at close range. I'd always felt that was so fake, contrived even, a way to draw out the action sequence. Here in real life, though, now, it seems to be happening in front of my eyes. Bullets ricochet off of the ceiling and walls, pictures fall and shatter. I'm waiting for Masen or Alec or both to hit the ground, but then Masen shouts, loudly, and I realized he _has_ been shot – in the shoulder, if the way he's holding his arm is any indication.

Alec goes to shoot him again, but I'm already scrambling to my feet. I'm probably dead anyway; might as well –literally – die trying. Alec's a lot taller than me, but I manage to sort of tackle him from behind, causing him to pitch forward. I have nothing on my side but momentum and the element of surprise, and it works: his arm flies up, and while the gun does go off the bullet hits the ceiling.

Enraged, he swings around and boxes me in the face so viciously I feel something crack.

I'm back on the ground with the force of it. Blackness swings in front of my eyes, starry nights, lights. It hurts so bad I can't breathe. There's yelling, a lot of it, and I think I might hear sirens but I can't be sure. It's hard to see, and I realize there's blood in my eye. I squint across the room, to where Masen and Alec are now physically fighting, rolling around. I know Alec's hurt, but he's so hopped up that his energy seems boundless. Masen on the other hand, is fighting injured. I've no doubt that he'd have had the upper hand normally, but his bullet wound has him at a serious disadvantage.

Also, I don't see their guns. I don't know if they ran out of bullets or if something happened when I went down, but the only weapons they're using are their fists. I look around, scanning the floor, but see nothing. Maybe...

"Bella, run!" screams Masen, and his voice is so raw it send shivers down my spine.

I jerk to my feet and take off, running to the bedroom, slipping on blood in the hallway. I skid and go down, hitting my knee, but get back up. Something falls in the other room. More glass breaks. There are definitely sirens now, but they'll be too late.

I yank my underwear drawer open so hard it comes out of the dresser and I fall back on my ass. A rainbow of panties showers out like confetti, revealing the .38 Special I keep hidden in there. It's loaded; Masen told me not to keep a gun unless I was going to be ready to use it.

Every second happens on its own; I'm not planning or even thinking about what I'm going to do. I'm just doing it. Running on autopilot.

Back down the hallway. I avoid the blood this time, and come out right in time to see Alec get the upper hand. He starts whaling on Masen, his fists connecting wildly and furiously. Masen is getting in hits too, but they're few and far between, one arm noticeably weaker than the other. Seeing him this way guts me.

"Stop it!" I scream, cocking the gun. "Alec!"

He ignores me, whether on purpose or because he's too far gone I don't know, so I shoot the ceiling. Plaster and dust rains down. Everything stops. Alec turns slowly, and it's like a demon has taken over his face. There's so much hatred, violence seeping from his pores like sweat.

"Put that shit down," he rasps, his voice nearly gone.

"Get off him," I scream. I can hardly get the words out, I'm shaking so bad. There's blood everywhere.

He gets off and comes at me so quickly I don't have time to think.

I'm back in San Leandro, aiming for my target.

Once, twice. I'm ready for the kick back but not the look on Alec's face as it morphs into surprise and pain as he falls, maybe a foot away from where I'm standing. Blood is spattered across the wall and even me, and I drop to my knees, vomiting.

Across the room, Masen is still. With a strangled sob I crawl over to him, horrified by the condition of his face. He's swollen, bloody and bruised. I put a hand on his chest and my ear to his mouth, checking for any signs of life. Thankfully he's breathing, though shallowly, and while his heartbeat seems faint to me, it's there.

And then I can't stop crying. Somehow I know, as if I'm watching this version of myself from someplace else, that I'm completely hysterical, but I can't calm down.

I just killed someone.

I just killed Alec.

_I killed Alec._

I tun my face aside to heave again, and again, but there's nothing left in my system.

"Masen...Edward...don't die," I cry, putting my head on his chest. If he could just open his eyes a second, say something, I'd be okay. "Please, please, please don't leave me. Please. I love you."

I feel, rather than hear, him moan, and when I gently take his hand, he just barely squeezes. I don't know the extent of his injuries, but I cling to the hope that this gives me. He is all that I have.

The brief interlude of silence that followed my killing Alec ends with flashing lights and men in what look like SWAT uniforms busting down the door. They scream at me to drop the gun, which I'd forgotten I was even holding.

I sob openly as they surround me, filling the house, walkie talkies crackling, boots squeaking on the floor. The sun is coming up, and morning light floods the windows, illuminating the chaos and carnage with beams of orange and gold. I can see dust motes dancing in the glow, something peaceful in all of this terribleness.

It looks like a war zone here.

While part of me knows that in many ways this is only the beginning, that there will be an investigation and trial, that I'm going to be questioned and doubted, I'm too concerned with Masen to care. Edward. His name is Edward.

I've heard of police officers going deep undercover, but where does he go from here? Provided he survives, how does he rebuild his life? He promised me we'd be together, but that was before he told me the truth. What is our truth now?

There's a woman with a blonde ponytail squatting down in front of me, saying... something. Her eyes are so blue they're nearly lavender, and she's pretty, too pretty to be doing this, I think. I want to cry. My eyes are burning. My ears are ringing. She frowns, pity and compassion softening her expression. The police seem to realize that maybe I am a victim too, because after asking a couple of questions they wrap me delicately in a blanket, and load me into a waiting ambulance. I hear comments about other bodies, dead bodies, and I wonder who they are, where they are, and if Alec was the one that took their lives. If it was Felix, or Marcus. Now that the adrenaline's gone and my hysteria has died down, physical pain takes over. Everything hurts, even blinking my eyes. I can't imagine what I must look like, and I don't have the energy to care.

All I care about is Edward. Do they know he's one of them?

"Is he okay? Is he okay? Please..." I'm begging the EMTs who are tending to me, squirming from their touch. "Please, tell me is he okay?"

"They're making sure he's stable," one of them says vaguely.

"I need to see him," I say. "I need to know."

"We're taking you both to Highland," he says, easing an oxygen mask over my face. "You'll see him later."

* * *

I float in and out of consciousness. The pain is so intense, so all encompassing, and as if it knows I can't handle it, my body keeps on pulling me under.

Way under. Deep under.

Deep undercover.

It's over. I'm done. Even if I live, Edward Cullen and Masen Hale are both dead. Twenty seven arrests in the past three years and eight deaths, counting tonight's bloodbath, but there are plenty of people who are still alive and free, who will be after me. People from _the family_ and maybe even guys from the other side. They'll be after me if they know I'm alive.

But they'll be chasing a ghost. I've been so far gone, so far under for so long that I barely even know who I am.

Most of this is just dreaming anyway. Incoherence. But then I think about what happened just now and I know it's real.

I can't open my eyes, but I can feel that it's loud, and bright. We're moving; there's the sounds of static, radio, voices. An ambulance. I've been here before. Not this serious, but...yeah. We're going to the hospital.

All I hear and see is Bella, but she's not actually here. I wish she was her,e but then I'm glad she's not. I'm hoping she's in an ambulance too, because the way she looked before she went down... she needs medical assistance. I'm not a doctor, but even I know that.

Her declaration runs through my head, endless._..please don't leave me. Please. I love you..._

I don't want to die either, but things seems grim. I am poked and prodded, handled and tended to. Maybe they're trying to be gentle, but saving lives is not the time for coddling. They'll rough me up if they have to, and I want them to.

We hit a bump, bank a corner. I'm held securely in place. I keep seeing Bella.

First time. Sunglasses so big they covered half her face. Bright red bathing suit, long dark hair. I knew not to stare at the boss's girl, but damn was she fine.

The time I realized she wanted me. Bright eyed and lusting, nose red from playing in blow all day. In little shorts and a little shirt with no sleeves and no bra. She looked at me, really looked at me, until I looked away. I remember her smiling, and hating that smile because it wasn't really her, but hell if I didn't think about it later in the shower.

Cooking in the kitchen, making cookies or something for that ungrateful asshole.

Cooking in the kitchen. For me this time, trying to make things she knew I liked. Looking over her shoulder at me, pink faced and shy. "Um...I tried to do shepherd's pie. I think I blew it," she said.

The time she realized I wanted her, too. Fiddling with her bracelets and wringing her hands and pretending not to notice me staring at her every time we stopped at a light. Blushing and blushing and letting me stare at her until she stared back and until she looked away.

Pretending for months and months. Thinking about her when I was with other girls. Thinking about her when I was alone.

First time she kissed me.

First time I kissed her.

First time I fucked her. The last time, too. I nearly took her right there on the hood of my car.

And no, it was never fucking. I loved her. Well, maybe it was fucking, too. All I know now is I fucking love her.

I love her now.

I love her.

I love her.

* * *

_**ok ok so maybe it wasn't 99% of you that guessed. many of you didn't and that's great :) more surprises all around, then... whoot!**_

_**thank you for all of the reviews and tweets and FB wonderings. you guys make my day. truly. thank you.**_

_**xo**_


	18. Deal

**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

**not beta'd**

**Word Prompt**: **Deal**

* * *

My dreams are foggy, senseless. I wake slowly, returning to consciousness in degrees. Everything hurts - my body is broken. Maybe my heart, as well.

Tears slip from my eyes down to the sheet, wetting it. I turn from my side to face the ceiling, wiping my face carefully. Besides scrapes and multiple contusions all over my arms and face, I have a fractured cheekbone. They've got me on all kinds of painkillers. When the medics first administered my meds, it did occur to me to be nervous I could get hooked, but I dismissed those thoughts soon after thinking them. This pain is unlike anything I've ever felt. There's no way I could deal with it without taking something.

And anyway, I've always preferred uppers. I can't see myself voluntarily choosing this (admittedly peaceful) cloud over clarity on a daily basis.

I'm encouraged to "just rest", but the hospital is the least restful place there is, with nurses and doctors coming and going every hour to check my stats. Any questions I have about Edward are dismissed with empty sounding assurances that he'll be fine. I don't know what to say or who to ask. I have no idea if they know his true identity and aren't authorized so say anything, or if it's because we're not family...all these secrets.

His true self was a secret. Our relationship was a secret. Even the life I lived with Alec was a secret to anyone outside of the family. I've been acting and hiding for so long, having to hide parts of myself to survive. A lot like Edward, I realize. We have more in common than I thought.

There's a soft knock on the door. I can't move much, and I'm too tired, but I manage to focus on the tall, handsome guy who walks in. Right away I can tell he's a detective or something. He seems very Law and Order.

"Ms. Swan?"

"Yes," I croak.

Wincing sympathetically, he rushes to the bedside table, where a little pitcher of water and cup sit. He pours me some and waits while I drink it. Besides having cottonmouth from the medication, my throat hurts – I guess from all that screaming I did.

"All right?" he asks, seeming genuinely concerned. He's got dark, curly hair and kind eyes, his gentle demeanor at odds with how huge he is. "I'm Detective McCarty. You okay to talk?"

"Homicide detective?" I ask, swallowing against the ache in my throat.

"Among other things." A shadow of a smile crosses his face, and he takes a seat beside my bed. "May I?"

"Sure."

"So. You want to tell me what happened?

"How much do you know?" I ask.

"Deflecting." He chuckles. "True mob wife."

"I'm not his wife," I say, feeling the tears coming. "And he's dead."

"Hey, it's okay," he says, grabbing a tissue. He hands it to me and I dab at my eyes. "I'm...sorry. I know this is hard."

I shut my eyes, trying to regain my composure. I can't stop thinking about the second I murdered Alec. The love was gone, for sure, but I'm not a murderer. I'm the girl that saves spiders from being crushed underfoot, who opens the window to release moths. I brought an injured squirrel to the vet one time, only to be told it was going to die anyway, and then I cried on the way home, feeling sorry for it.

So having something like this on my conscience haunts me, and it probably will for the rest of my life.

"Ms. Swan?"

"Bella."

"Then call me Emmett."

I nod.

"Bella, I know how it feels. It's never a good feeling to take a life, but sometimes...it's life or death."

Masen's words about life or death prickle through my subconscious, and I swallow back a sob.

"It was self defense," I whisper.

"I know. That's become pretty apparent." I think about the information being gathered by the SWAT team, and the forensics team, and the camera Masen hid. I know now there were several others.

Restless, I push the button that will bring my bed to a seating position, and Emmett helps me, adjusting my pillows behind my back.

"Had there...been a history of physical abuse?" He asks, eyes running over the disaster that is my face.

"Not much, but...yeah. This was the second time he hit me. He choked me once, a long time ago."

Emmett nods, jotting things down. His phone buzzes audibly, and he glances down at it before returning his full attention to me. "So, listen Bella. I know some things, but not all. I need you to tell me what I don't know. Please."

"I need things, too."

"Tell me, and I'll make them happen."

I'm not sure he can take care of me the way I'm going to need, but as usual, my choices are next to nothing.

"Alec's dad is going to want to kill me. I assume they know I survived."

He nods. "We've already started discussing witness protection, and we highly recommend you consider –"

"No considering needed. I'll take it."

"Done. What else?"

"I need to know if Masen's okay." I watch Emmett's face intently, but he's impassive. Excellent poker face.

"He'll be all right."

"Tell me."

"I'm not really at liberty to discuss it."

"Why not?" I cry, agitated. I'm so tired of everyone yanking my chain when it comes to this. "He's...we're friends. He saved my life, and I saved his!"

"I'm aware of that, and we're grateful. You have no idea how grateful."

He seems cryptic, which is the story of my life, apparently. "I didn't do it for you," I say. "I did it because I love him, and because I didn't want to live without him."

Emmett scrubs a hand over his face.

Doubt begins to niggle at me. Should I not have said that? I don't know what I'm doing here; it's not like I've been trained or prepared.

"Tell me what _you_ know," I plead. "I know things about him, too, but not everything."

"I know."

"How do you know?"

"For one thing, I reviewed the tapes. For another, I've gone through his statement several times."

"So he's awake?" I gasp.

"Yes, in and out of consciousness, mostly medically induced. He's got a lot of the same injuries as you do, not counting the bullet wound to the shoulder, obviously, and it's his nose that's broken, not his cheekbone. More bruising to the head, actually; they were concerned about that, but he's all right. No internal swelling by some miracle."

"Did he say anything about me?" I ask.

"He wanted to know if you were okay." Emmett smiles wryly. "We assured him you were."

"That's it? Can I see him?"

"He's been moved for his own safety."

My heart sinks. Like water rushing down a drain, I sag with the loss of hope. "So that's it? He's gone?"

There's a thick silence between us for a few minutes. Eventually Emmett clears his throat and settles back in his chair.

"I've kept my end of the deal, Bella. It's time to tell me what you know. Start to finish. We have enough to make a number of arrests, but there are still things we need clarification on."

Sighing, I nod. I give up. They can have it; all of it.

Starting from the first time I met Alec Dvoskin, I tell everything I know, including family dynamics, overheard conversations, car rides, addresses, trips to exotic places, bank accounts, hidden drug and money caches... and he listens, recording my story as well as jotting down details. I'm wrapping up my account of last night's shoot-out when there's another knock at the door.

Angela, one of the nurses who has been tending to me, comes in to take my blood pressure and to see if there's anything I need. I'm okay for the moment, so she smiles and leaves, only to be back a second later.

"Sorry to interrupt again, but there's someone here to see Ms. Swan."

Before either of us can ask who, my father walks in the door.

* * *

What Bella doesn't know is that there are two police officers outside of her hospital room at all times. Because while I'm rumored dead, everyone knows she's alive. And they know that she either offed Alec herself or that she knows too much information anyway. There's talk of witsec, obviously, because either way her life's in danger.

Mine is too, but I've already been whisked away to a new, temporary location, new identity pending. The nature of my recently finished assignment, as well as my extensive injuries, guarantee that even if I wanted to return to the field –which I don't –I'm expected to retire. Old money transferred at the last minute plus a fat severance means I'll be all right regardless of what I do.

I still haven't chosen where I want to go. My superiors and the people putting together my witsec think it's because I'm too out of it to make sound decisions. They're patient; after all, I can barely walk for the dizziness, headaches and throbbing. But the truth is, I need to know where Bella's going to be. I made her a promise, several promises, and while I kept the first –that I'd get her out of that house and away from Alec –I have yet to make good on the rest.

Namely, staying by her side.

My involvement with Bella Swan is everything from water-cooler gossip to cause for disciplinary action. My boss tells me they're probably just going to look the other way, though, seeing that I'm not only leaving the force anyway, but that I was so successful in my assignment. The way it ended sucked, yeah, but compared to what could've happened, it was minimal.

And in our world, where people have to blend in by any means possible barring extremes like hard drugs, promiscuity is accepted, expected even. I've never been told _not_ to, and I know for a fact that by the time the reports start coming in, who the agent is sleeping with is the last on any list of concerns. Even the drinking and weed were considered "necessary evils".

What's never okay is falling in love with these people. It's highly unprofessional and could compromise operations that are often times several years and many thousands of dollars underway. I know all of this. I knew it then, too. I was aware of it every step of the way.

And yet, it didn't matter.

My first mistake was feeling protective over Bella, as if I really was her bodyguard. But it was nearly impossible not to be; she was so unlike the people around her. I'd seen what Alec and his idiot friends were capable of. I'd seen him do everything from cheat on her to ply her with drugs. As for what they did when they were out and about...kidnapping, false imprisonment, buying and selling drugs, assault...and, most recently, murder.

My second mistake was allowing the attraction to take root: hers, and then mine. Once she was in my head, she stayed like a virus, attacking my rationale and sensibility.

What happened afterward was inevitable...the sex, the plans to take her with me when I completed my assignment, the promises. All of it. Couldn't have stopped it if I wanted to.

Being away from her now is difficult, especially knowing that she's hurting and scared, but it's for the best. I'll do what I can to keep her safe, because it really is my job. It's the most important assignment I've ever taken on. I'd stay away from indefinitely if I thought it was the best idea, but I don't think it is. No one can protect her like I do.

I've only admitted this to two people, and they've promised to help coordinate things. For now, though, it's easier pretending that I'm asleep more than I'm awake.

It's not like I exist, anyway.

* * *

**Witsec - witness protection program**

**the details concerning what's "acceptable" behavior for undercover officers is true, believe it or not.**


	19. Groom

**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

**not beta'd**

**Word Prompt:** Groom

**Plot Generator—Binding Blurb:** In 500 words or fewer, write a blurb or a short entry about** getting down and dirty.**

* * *

Seeing my dad so unexpectedly hits me harder than most anything that happened last night. I've missed him for so long, thought about him and how he was doing. I know he's missed me, too, that he's probably been worried about me.

The bratty things I said when I left...I stare at Charlie, and his eyes are glassy just like mine. In fact, I've never seen him this way. He's always been so even-keel and serious. No histrionics, not even when we'd fight. See such a wide range of emotions on his face and in the way he moves hurts, like_ I _put him through this with my shitty decisions.

Emmett looks from him to me and back, then stands. "Emmett McCarty. I'm working this case."

"Charlie Swan. Oakland PD, retired." He shakes Emmett's hand. "I'm Bella's father."

Emmett blows a long breath out, rubbing a hand over his head. "Okay. I'm uh...I'm going to come back later, Bella, okay? Maybe tomorrow. Looks like you two need some time."

Nodding, I wipe my face. "Thanks, Emmett."

"It's fine. I have a lot here, anyway." He holds his recorder and little notebook up briefly before pocketing them. "Nice meeting you, Sir," he says to Charlie. They nod to one another, and he leaves.

The door closes quietly and then it's just me and Charlie. The pain on his face is almost more than I can handle. I still haven't looked in a mirror, so while I feel the extent of my facial injuries I have no idea what they look like. Judging by Charlie's expression, though, it's pretty horrific.

"I'm sorry, Dad," I finally choke out. It's just the tip of the iceberg, but I have to start somewhere. "You were so right about him. I'm sorry."

He shakes his head and hurries over, leaning carefully down to hug me. I hug him back the best I can, ignoring the sparks of pain shooting through my arms and sides. We stay this way for a long time, silently holding each other. It's one of the best things that's happened to me in days.

My breathing starts to even out, and he kisses my forehead before having a seat in the chair Emmett recently vacated.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks, brushing a lock of hair from my face so gently I can hardly feel his hand. "It's okay if you don't."

On one hand, I want to come clean to him and just spill it all. But I've just spent the past hour confessing the sins of the Dvoskins, as well as the people they did business with, to Emmett. I'm a little tuckered out.

"I do, but not right now," I admit, my voice raspy from crying and over-use. "I'm just really glad you're here. How'd you find out?"

"Buddy of mine still working downtown. He called me a couple of hours ago when it started spreading around a couple of circles of law enforcement. But it's...all over the news, Bella, even though the details are fuzzy." He sighs. "I don't know. They're trying to get a hold on it. I feel like they could have handled this a little better."

"I think it just..." I close my eyes, remembering the horror. "Got too big. It wasn't supposed to go down that way."

"I heard about the cop."

I open my eyes, regarding him cautiously. "Which cop?"

"The undercover. The one whose life you saved. The one who saved you." His voice breaks and he looks away briefly, getting himself under control.

"He was...we were supposed to leave the next day. He was gonna get me out of there. Everything kinda fell apart when those guys attacked the house. It was so awful. So, so bad." I squeeze my eyes shut, heart pounding. "People died in front of me." I shake my head. "I had to..." Regardless of how many times I acknowledge Alec's death in my mind or say it out loud, it hurts like a fresh wound. "I thought Alec was going to kill me."

"Sounds like he probably would've," he says gruffly, running a hand over his mustache. I recognize this; he's slipping back into cop-mode. Gathering and accessing information, considering crime scenes, interrogating. He's good at it, and I'm glad he's on my side. As a retired police officer, but mostly as my father. I feel strengthened by his presence, protected.

A lot like how Edward made me feel when we were together. He empowered me, but made me feel like he'd take care of me as well.

Charlie clears his throat. "I'm not sure what your detective friend has told you, and the only reason I know is because...well, I know someone. But, Bella, _Masen Hale_ died last night. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

I frown. "I think so."

"He's gone now. He won't be around."

So that's the story, I suppose. I see why Emmett's been so tight lipped about it. Besides the EMTs on the scene, Emmett and now my Dad, it's seeming more and more like the people that know both Edward's true identity as well as whether he's dead or alive are few and far between. I wonder if he's had to do this before? His life is even more insane than he made it out to be.

I'm understanding, also, how hard it was for him to tell me the truth. How dangerous, and maybe how foolish. Love makes fools of us all, though.

"So, uh, what was the nature of your relationship to this guy?"

If my face wasn't such a patchwork of color already, I might be blushing. Call me stupid, but it didn't occur to me that people would be talking about me and Edward. Of course, now that I consider it, though, I feel like an ass. Of course. The cameras. And if there were wire taps and ongoing reports...I don't know. Things might have been said, heard, implied.

So I just say, "I love him."

"Okay." Charlie nods once.

"I'm going to have to go into witness protection," I say, wanting to move on.

"More than likely. It's for the best."

"So I...I won't see you, right? Afterward?"

He pauses, then shakes his head. "Probably not."

He's only confirming what I already know, but hearing it leaves me hollow and depressed. Is it my lot in life to lose everyone I love?

"I've missed you," I whisper, reaching for him. "I'm sorry I left like that. I'm sorry I didn't try harder to come home when I still could. I'm sorry I chose him over you."

"Shh." He kisses my hand and squeezes it. "It's okay now. Sometimes you just have to...let go. As a parent. I didn't like what you were getting into, but I did think you'd be able to leave if it got too hot. I didn't think he'd keep you there." He scowls, and I'm guessing he's probably glad Alec's gone.

"So what's next?"

"Well, I'll be around until you have to be relocated. Right now, though, they're probably going to start to groom you for the trial. There have been a lot of arrests already, both before and after last night's incident. Your friend's reports as well as a few others working on the case more than sealed the deal, but you'll still be an invaluable witness."

I nod. "That's what Emmett said. I'll have to testify against Aro and Caius."

"Right. How much do you know?"

"Not as much as some, actually. Most of what I do know has to do directly with Alec, but I guess there might be something I can add. We'll see."

"One day at a time, kiddo."

* * *

It could be that there are special, unspoken rules for those in law enforcement, especially when they're related to the victims –I have no idea – but Charlie's allowed to stay for a really long time. By the time he glances at his watch, the shadows on the wall have switched from one side to the other. It's nearly dusk.

He's stayed with me through lunch (soup for me and a sub for him) and a couple of naps, and I was finally able to share the past couple of years with him. He tells me all about Sue, too, about their trip to Mexico last year and how, if things work out, they might try the Caribbean. Good places to fish, and all that. I suggest several of the places I've been, like the Cayman Islands, the Virgin Islands, and Puerto Rico, glad that there are some bright spots when I think back over my years as Alec's girl.

"I better head out, Bella. I know Sue's anxious for an update. She misses you, Bella."

"I miss her, too." I manage a smile. "Thank you for coming."

"I'll be back tomorrow, soon as I can," he promises, giving me one more soft kiss on the cheek. He's never been so outwardly affectionate, but grief and near misses have a way of changing people I guess.

"That'd be great."

"Love you, Bells."

"Love you too."

When he leaves, I turn to look at the window. I can't see much from the angle of my bed, just the darkening sky. It's hard to believe that at this time last night I was drinking myself silly at home, scared and anxious because of what Masen had told me, and because we were going to run. Had things gone accordingly, we'd be on the run right now.

Or whatever he'd had in mind, seeing he's a police officer. Maybe I'd be doing the same thing, doling out information in exchange for amnesty and protection.

Our situation was doomed from the start. From the first time I kissed him at Tilden to the time we made love in the forest, there was always this sense of living, and loving, on borrowed time. It was something beautiful in the middle of so many awful things, and it always felt so fragile.

Ephemeral.

Over the next couple of days, I continue to meet with Emmett and my dad, sometimes at the same time. They form an easy alliance, automatically finding common ground in both their professions, eve though Charlie's retired, and their devotion to this case in particular. They never speak of Edward again, and I don't ask them to. The last thing I want to do is jeopardize his safety.

Because of Alec, Felix and Marcus' deaths, as well as the group who came to rob and kill them, there are several trials I'm expected to testify at. It's going to be a long, drawn out process, so I'm going to be relocated to a temporary safe place in the meanwhile. After the trials are over, I'll be permanently relocated to where WitSec places me.

The day that I'm to be released from the hospital, Emmett comes to see me. He's not alone this time, and at his side is the beautiful blonde who tried to talk to me the night of the murders. I stare blankly at her, wondering how she knows Emmett, or why she's here. Maybe she was worried? She'd seemed kind...

"Bella, I wanted you to meet Rose. She was one of the first responders that night –"

"I remember," I say softly. She really is pretty, even more so plain clothes.

"Hi, Bella. How've you been?" she asks, coming to sit on the edge of my bed.

I'm actually sitting on the edge of it, too. I'd been ready and waiting to go, anxious to get to my assigned hidey-hole.

"I've been better," I say, laughing quietly. "But I'm a lot better, too. Thanks for..." I swallow, breaking our gaze. "Being there."

"It's my job," she says, smiling. She pats my leg and stands. "Are you ready to leave? We're going to drive you out."

"Oh, okay," I say, confused. "Is it usually done like this?" I'd wondered how they were going to get me out of the hospital. I know now of the police who've been stationed outside of my door, something that makes me feel both safer and way more terrified.

"We have another two officers that will escort us the back way out of here, and then two more waiting in the Tahoe. It'll be okay. Rose and I are just coming for support. Is that...okay?"

"Of course! Yes." I nod quickly, sliding off the bed and standing. I glance at Emmett, who is now standing rather close to Rose and the glaring obviousness of it makes me smile. "Are you guys, like, together?"

Rose smiles. "We're married."

Small world indeed.

* * *

I doze on and off most of the way, aided by pain killers. The bruises and scrapes will heal fast; they've already begun to, but my cheek will take time. It still hurts a lot, throbbing whenever I lean over or touch it inadvertently. I've also been having trouble sleeping through the night. Nightmares and restlessness, classic PTSD, keep me up if I don't take Rozerem. I'll take that later, though.

My doctors also suggested I try counseling. Besides my insomnia, guilt, depression and anxiety have been plaguing me since that night –also all classic signs of PTSD. I know I need it, and I actually welcome therapy, but I'll have to wait until we can find someone trustworthy and sensitive my situation.

It takes a little over a day of near non-stop driving, but in the wet, drizzly dawn hours of Friday morning we enter a tiny backwoods town called Forks. I knew I'd be in Washington State, but I've never even heard of this place, which might be the point. I guess it doesn't matter either way; I won't be here forever.

Another black SUV like the one we're riding in is parked in the driveway of a little house tucked back from the street. A vast, dark network of trees serves as a backdrop, nearly swallowing the house with their looming size and stature.

Groggy, I follow Emmett, Rose, and the other two officers to the front door, where one of them knocks. A redhead answers, smiling perfunctorily before leading us inside. The whole thing is so very intense and secretive, it makes my life with Alec seem like child's play.

We walk into a cramped living room, where several men are standing around, drinking coffee and talking in hushed tones.

Among them, dressed in black, hair shaved down to a crew cut, sits Edward Cullen.

* * *

_**anyone well versed in trials and law enforcement things (and i don't mean avid watchers of "law and order". i have my husband for that) is welcome to enlighten me. i will take license with some things because, well, it's fiction and i want it to be interesting and juicy but i don't want it to be grossly inaccurate or farfetched. that said, everything up until this point just...needed to happen this way.**_

_**much, much love to everyone especially those of you in the northeast dealing with the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy. i know how you feel; Hurricane Hugo (and then Marilyn, a few years after) nearly decimated st croix back in '89. my heart hurts for you, and you're in my thoughts and prayers. truly.**_

_**also, a belated happy birthday to the fic whisperer Nic, who turned 25 recently. **_

_**xo**_


	20. Cast

**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

**not beta'd**

**Word Prompt: Cast**

**Dialogue Flex: "I need a few more minutes."**

* * *

My stomach twists, clenches, and I stop where I am. I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't this.

He's here. The bridge of his nose is black and blue, and he's got scrapes and bruises to rival my own, but he's here. Alive, awake.

And for the first time, I'm looking at Edward, not Masen. Part of me will always remember falling in love with Masen, but the transition has been almost seamless in my mind. Maybe it's because there was so much badness, that moving past it, is crucial...a matter of survival.

New life, new names. Masen's supposed to be dead. I wonder if Edward Cullen is _gone_, too.

I'm distantly aware of Emmett's hand at my elbow, gently leading me further inside. I snap my eyes away from Edward's and look around the room, meeting the gaze of the other four men standing around. Like Jacob and Tyler, the officers who drove us to Forks, these men are US Marshals. They quiet when they see us, waiting expectantly.

Jacob clears his throat. "This is Bella Swan." He glances at me. "These are the officers who'll be in and around the premises at any given time over the next year. They'll check in on you from time to time, ensuring your safety and the integrity of your seclusion. Several members of the local law enforcement have also been chosen to assist."

The Marshals step around the couch, introducing themselves one by one: Embry Call, Paul LaHote, Jared Cameron, and Sam Uley. They're polite and friendly enough, with the exception of Paul, who's a little on the serious side, and very...official.

"Hello." I give an awkward little wave, unsure of the protocol in situations like this. I've entered an alternate universe, apparently, or a television show of which I am the unwitting and very reluctant star.

After a beat, the tension breaks on its own, the Marshals resuming whatever conversations they were having prior to our arrival. Emmett eases past me and shakes Edward's hand. "Cullen. Good to see you again."

"You too, man." Edward's eyes slide back to me as he stands. His injuries, like the bullet wound in his shoulder, are apparent to me by the way he moves. Stiffness has replaced his natural grace. "Bella."

He sounds almost...unsure.

It squeezes my heart. I don't want to pretend like his presence isn't my entire world right now, like I haven't been agonizing over him since the night we were separated. I can't pretend; I'm too tired, and I feel too many things for him. All of the fears I had concerning his well being and whether or not I'd ever see him come to a swell up within and then just dissolve, leaving me emptied and weak.

And so relieved I could cry. Again.

The room suddenly blurs as a result of the tears I'd hoped were gone, and a huge lump forms in my throat. Shaking, I trip toward him, wrapping my arms around him as securely as I can without hurting him. He sucks in a sharp breath, but holds me tight, tucking my head beneath his chin. I love the way he smells. That hasn't changed.

I may have known him by a different name, but there are so many things I know about _him_.

Minutes pass. A door closes. I open my eyes, and the room has emptied.

"I guess they know?" I whisper, wiping my face.

He nods, chuffing quietly. "I think everyone closely involved in this operation knows." He holds my face delicately, rubbing the pads of his thumbs over my cheeks. I wince a little, and he freezes, dropping his hands. "I'm sorry! Sorry...your cheekbone, right? I'm sorry, Bella."

"It's okay," I breathe, gazing up at him. "How are _you_ here?"

"You really don't know?" he chuckles, extricating himself so he can lead me to the couch he was sitting on before. "I requested to be placed with you."

"That's not...I don't know - suspicious? Or a conflict of interest?"

"Normally, it would be suspicious, yes. But I'm supposed to be dead, and no one knows where _ you _are right now except for the little cast of characters you were just introduced to. Not even your father knows." His eyes search my face. "And yes, it would be the biggest conflict of interest ever, except...I'm no longer employed by the department."

"What do you mean?"

He swallows, sitting back, and I curl up beside him, kicking off my sneakers so I can tuck my feet in. "It's not uncommon for officers who've been as deep undercover as I have, and for as long, to go on hiatus, or to even retire altogether. Besides, my injuries were pretty bad. I'm doing okay now, but..."

"Emmett said you broke your nose?"

"And a rib."

My hand flies to my mouth. "I didn't know."

"Hey, it's okay," he says, waving it off. "Hairline fracture. I'm just lucky it didn't puncture a lung. Really, everything else was superficial. Hurts like a bitch, but I'll be fine."

I take a deep breath, thinking about the implications of what Edward's just told me. He really is like me, not just for now, but for good.

"What're you thinking?" he asks eventually.

"Emmett said it's going to take a while for this to go to trial. When he said Forks was temporary, I thought he meant...I don't know; a month or two. But then he explained that it was more like a year or two, because there's so much work that needs to be done first." I shake my head. "This doesn't feel that temporary. And I know it doesn't matter, but I don't really have anything. My clothes...I don't have a phone..." I tuck my hair behind my ears, self conscious about how long and ratty it is at the moment. "I must sound really ungrateful right now."

"You sound human," Edward says, shrugging. "You'll get a stipend for food, clothing and other necessities, and they'll provide you with a phone. Easier for them to set that kind of stuff up to reduce hacking and trailing. It's probably all being dealt with right now."

"Have you done this before?" I ask.

"No way. I did some undercover work when I was younger, but it was easy shit. Nothing like this." He runs his hand over his head, making me want to do the same. I kind of miss his longer hair, running my fingers through it. "I couldn't put myself through this over and over."

"Do you regret it?" I ask, trying not to be distracted by his looks. The short hair does something to me. It's...hot.

"Not a bit. I did my job. I helped bring down a lot of assholes, and I met you."

My heart thumps. I look down, giving myself a little break from the intensity of his eyes. "So...you're staying here? With me?"

There's barely space between us, but he scoots closer, slinging his arm around the back of the couch. "What'd I say? Didn't I promise you?"

"Yeah, but I thought –"

"I lied about certain things, necessary things, because I had to. It was my job. But some stuff was absolutely true, and that was one of them. I told you I'd take care of you, and I told you we'd stay together."

I look at him again.

"Were you ever scared?"

"All the time. You have to be; keeps you on point."

"Was it hard?"

"Having to lie? No. It's playing a part."

Frowning a little, I start remembering things. "No wonder you seemed kind of...off when I kissed you, that first time at Tilden."

"No." He shakes his head, sitting up straight. "No, that was never a lie. I'd had feelings for you from before."

I stare at him,wanting so very badly to trust and believe. After all, look at how far we've come.

"Could you really not tell?" he asks, eyes searching mine.

"I – I don't know," I admit, confused. Everything he says make perfect sense, but I've never been in a situation like this. I mean, few people ever are. Additionally, relationships in general are new to me. I was with the same person for so long that I kind of lost my edge – if I ever really had one. Trust, reading between the lines, the dynamic of a new relationship...all this stuff is foreign to me.

But if there's any hope for me and Edward, and I desperately want there to be, I have to be explicitly honest about my thoughts and misgivings. I have to be, because I want him to be that way with me. No lies.

"I was a baby when I got with Alec. I don't really know how these things work, you know? He said stuff, I believed him. He did things, and I trusted. Until I didn't and by then it was too late." I rub my palms down my jeans, trying to fit my words together in a way that make sense. "You're nothing like him, obviously, but I don't know what I'm doing. I feel like I'm starting from square one. It's not your fault you started our relationship with lies, but it still went down like that and so now I have to get to know you in this new way."

He nods, staring out the window.

"Does that make sense?"

"Of course, Bella. I...this is why they tell you never to get involved. It ends up being this huge clusterfuck."

It really does, doesn't it?

There is so much I want to say, but I let it settle for now. After a moment Emmett, Rose and Jacob pop back in, arranging themselves around us. Edward's been prepped a little bit, but I have a lot of listening to do. There are do's and don'ts: obvious things like not talking to strangers or contacting family and friends from home, and less obvious ones like caution when using the internet. There will be "eyes" on the house at all times, and if ever either of us needs a hand, regardless of where in town we are, we'll be able to reach one of the Marshals on speed dial.

One of the reasons Forks was chosen is because of its near constant rain and cloud cover. Besides a surprisingly thriving fishing industry, there isn't much action here, and people tend to stay in a lot at this time of year. It's perfect for us, because we won't be expected to socialize much. Once the trial is over and our "real" fake lives begin, we'll be given our permanent placement and papers. We'll be able to fully integrate into society, living as normally as possible. For now, though, privacy and secrecy are of paramount importance.

When it's time for Jacob, Tyler, Emmett and Rose to head back to Oakland, we walk them to the door and let them out, promising to be in touch as regularly as possible. Well, I promise Emmett and Rose. I doubt I'll ever see the other two again.

Rain falls softly, more of a heavy mist than anything, and I shiver, realizing it's much, much colder up here than it was back home.

Home. This is home, for now.

* * *

Dinner is pizza. Delivery.

The kid barely takes the money before he's gone again, swallowed up the grey-black of early night. Edward and I eat quietly, muted by our thoughts and probably the heaviness of our situation.

I know that it will get better, that we won't always be this way, but it's hard. I'd imagined such a joyous reunion, and while I'd gotten one, briefly, it hadn't taken long for reality to kick in. I'm left exhausted.

After eating, I stand, pushing my chair back in.

"I'm going to take a bath."

Edward nods. "Okay."

I wander upstairs, to the room Jacob had showed me earlier. Compared to the lavishness I was living in before, it's modest, a full size bed in the middle, cream colored walls. I wonder if we're allowed to paint, and I think that maybe I will, just to make it feel more mine. The few belongings I brought are in a bag on the dresser. I grab clean underwear and a t-shirt before going to the bathroom. It's simple and small, but clean, and I'm grateful.

There aren't bubbles, so I just make a mental note to buy some and run the water as hot as I can stand it before getting in. It feels amazing, and I'm in there so long that when Edward knocks I startle.

"You okay?" he asks, muffled through the door.

"Yeah, sorry." I sit up, glancing at my wrinkly fingers. "I need a few more minutes, then we can switch."

"I'm all right," he says, voice already fading.

I hurry anyway, rubbing lotion on my skin before getting dressed. Edward's nowhere to be found when I make it out. I follow the sounds of a shower running to another door down the hall. There are two bathrooms up here and one half downstairs.

My books and things were left behind in that house on the hill. Not used to such quiet and simplicity, as well as such freedom from expectations, I climb in to bed and wonder if Edward will join me. I hope he does. I don't want to sleep alone.

I'm dozing again when he comes. He pauses beside the bed, and I pat the spot beside me, my heart pounding steadily. Having access to him, being able to spend the night at his side if I want, is overwhelming. We've always operated in tiny slivers of time, stolen moments and pretend errands. This is so honest, so normal, and I want him to want it the way I do.

He turns the light off and comes into bed. I curl on to my side, ultra aware of his nearness in the soft dark. His hands find me right away and he pulls me close. Our mouths meet like they were destined to all along, and I reach up to touch his hair. It's soft and spiky, and I love the way it feels, maybe even better than before.

Our injuries make us careful, but there's still this undercurrent of heat and need between us, and it doesn't take long for him to get my panties off.

"Are you sure?" I ask, gasping when his fingers slide inside, getting wet and maker me wetter. "I don't...I don't..." He kisses me over and over, teasing kisses that interrupt. "Don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," he promises.

We're on our sides. He hitches my leg over his hip and lets me feel him, urging me closer. It's not my favorite position but it's ideal for right now, keeping pressure and weight off of his rib.

I moan when he enters me, and he moans when we start to move. It's different than before, relaxed, like we have all night, because we do.

And when he curls up around me afterwards, when I reach back to touch his head because it's my newest addiction, he whispers, "I heard what you said that night. I love you, too."

* * *

_**sorry so late. tiny tyrant's nap is when i usually crank these out, and between voting at the polls and other stuff, we missed our normal routine.**_

_**anyhow, see you tomorrow ;)**_

_**xo**_


	21. Club

**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

**not beta'd**

**Word Prompts**: **Club, scrub, grub**

* * *

I wake up to the sound of falling rain. I've never seen so much rain in my life. It never stops. In a way, I like it; it makes me feel cozy, safe, like nothing can get to me. I've felt that way about rain since childhood, but the places I've lived generally didn't see much rain.

Maybe the constant wet and gray will get depressing after awhile, but for now it pleasantly reinforces the feeling that Edward and I are inside our own little bubble. Beside me, Edward sleeps soundly, his chest rising and falling. Weak, watery morning light illuminates the room enough that I can see the bruises that litter his pale skin. Wanting to touch them, and that hair, I clasp my hands instead, not wanting to disturb him. We've both been through things, and he deserves all the rest in the world. I snuggle down deeper beneath the covers, letting the soft hush of rainfall pull me back under.

When I wake up again, it's on the tail of a bad dream. I forgot to take my meds last night, but because Edward and I were in and out of sleep anyway, touching and kissing, my insomnia wasn't as noticeable. Now, though, the all too-familiar-stains of dread and fear creep in, and I force myself to breathe deeply and evenly, not wanting to freak Edward out if he wakes. It's difficult to calm myself down after these episodes, but I manage to do it, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth while I concentrate on unclenching my fists.

Slowly, the details of my nightmare dissipate with wakefulness. It was about Alec again, I know, but that's as much as I'll allow myself to remember. Instead of dwelling, I slip out of bed, shivering when my feet hit the cold, wood floor. I tiptoe to my bag and grab a large, fleece hoodie, something that will envelope me in warmth and softness.

Downstairs, the modest contents of the fridge are limited in terms of breakfast. I grab eggs, milk, cheese, bread and butter, and set about making omelets. While the pan is heating, I measure out the coffee and set it to brew, already anticipating the smell and taste.

Halfway through, I hear the soft, tell-tale thump of feet hitting the floor upstairs, and then footsteps. I have never lived in a two-story house, so this is new. It makes me smile, knowing that I share this space with Edward. I know we're playing house, but I can't stop myself from building my hopes around it. I yearn so much for normalcy, for all the things that other girls might find typical or even banal.

I've had the cash, the clothes, the drugs, clubs, vacations, luxury. I've had the best of the best, and the price I had to pay was far too high. In my deepest heart, I realize I still crave the college experience, somehow, somewhere. I want to stay at Edward's side as the one he depends on even as I depend on him.

And, I won't lie...I've thought about having his babies, to melt and swoon inside knowing that we made something so amazing.

"Must be a good morning," he says, appearing at my side. He leans his hands on the counter, amused. "By the smile on your face, I mean."

Blushing, I shrug and fiddle with the omelette, lifting it a tiny bit to see if it's ready for flipping.

Scooting closer, he stands so that our whole bodies touch, side by side. "Good morning, Bella."

"Good morning, Edward."

He grins. I grin. It's sappy and great and I'm blushing so hard - forget breakfast - my face my could catch fire. "I thought I'd whip up some grub... I remembered you liked my eggs," I say tentatively, thinking of our little breakfasts back on the hill.

"I did. I do." He stands behind me now, hands on my hips and then sliding beneath. "Back to dressing inappropriately for the cold..."

"A sweater and socks are not inappropriate," I snort. "Besides, there's no one here but you and me. I like feeling...relaxed."

"I like it, too." He presses against me, showing me how much he likes it, and sweeps my hair to the side. This is one of _his things_. It's becoming one of mine, too. My breath stutters, and I focus on the omelette, turning it before it overcooks. "It sucked before, having to pretend."

"Pretend you weren't interested?"

"Pretend I didn't love you."

My breath hitches, and I swallow. "For me, as well."

"You told me you fantasized," he says.

I nod, plating and covering the omelette to keep it warm. "All the time."

"Me too."

I glance briefly at him. "You're chatty today. I'm starting to realize there are aspects of your personality I truly know nothing about."

"Well, I'm not always chatty. Just like you're not always shy." He touches the red of my cheeks. "But I know things about you, and I feel it's only fair you know them about me, too."

"I'd like that." I pour the second bowl of beaten eggs into the frying pan. This one will be mine. My mouth is already watering at the thought of how it'll taste, the melted cheese crispy in places.

"I like strong coffee..."

"I already know that."

"Mixed with hot chocolate."

I grin. "Why didn't you tell me? I would've bought it before."

"I had it in my own kitchen." His fingers find my bellybutton. I flinch instinctively away, which only pushes my butt against his groin. He grips me, holding me still. "I had it all the time."

"Before coming up to drink my coffee," I say.

"Right." He kisses my ear.

"Let me guess," I breathe. "You like sex in the morning."

His thumbs tickle and play at the waistband of my underwear, dipping just below to the skin beneath. "How'd you know?"

"Educated guess."

Reaching back up under my hoodie, Edward runs his hand over my nipples before cupping one of my breasts. He squeezes gently before returning to just the nipple, fingertips circling until I'm antsy and horny and ready to stop playing around. He slides the other hand all the way into my underwear, at which point I deem my omelette finished. I push it off of the burner at the same time he pulls me down the counter, away from the stove. He peels my panties off, leaving the hoodie on, and sucks on my neck as he rubs me into readiness. Tipping me forward so that I'm bent over the counter, he pushes into me so suddenly the breath feels like it's pushed from my body.

He wasn't lying when he said he liked morning sex, because the pace he assumes is hard and fast, a little rougher than usual. He must have been thinking about it, and then come downstairs ready. His hands run all over me, like he can't decide what he wants to touch the most: my hips, my ass, the small of my back. I love it like this. It's so deep, and it makes me feel taken in the very best way.

But then Edward slows down. He curves over and around me, reaching down to touch me as he moves. I put my hand over his when I start to come, my knees buckling, and he speeds up, finishing soon after. We stand there for a minute, until I open my eyes, lifting up so I can look back at him. His face is flushed and he has this goofy grin going on, so cute.

"Thanks for the wake-up call," I tease, wiggling so he'll pull out. "If I'd known it was going to be like this I would've asked you to take me away sooner."

Laughing lowly, he gives me back my underwear. "Sorry. Maybe you should wear pants from now on."

"Maybe."

We kiss. I touch my lips to the tip of his broken nose as softly as I can, kissing it, too. "I have to clean up. Make toast?"

"Okay."

* * *

We're back in bed, mainly because it's still the most snuggly place in the house. The couch downstairs is fine, but it needs an afghan or something. Not that I'd expect for those sort of creature comforts to be here. We've been given the essentials, and like Edward explained, a stipend to figure out the rest. He tells me he has money, too. Something he's "working on with someone" so that when the trial is finally over and the details of our new lives are ironed out, he'll still have his savings.

But for now, this bedroom seems to be our safe place.

He's teaching me to play chess, but I keep getting frustrated.

"Try me at pool," I huff, resisting the urge to sweep my hands over the board, knocking the infuriating little figures down. "I'd kick your ass."

A ghost of a smile graces his mouth. "Maybe," he murmurs.

"I would."

"Checkmate."

Grimacing, I flop back onto the pillows. "I need a break."

"Okay."

"Tell me more."

"About what?"

I roll onto my side, facing him. "About you. Is it true about your parents?"

"Yeah. I'd never lie about that."

Nodding, I think about my mother, Renee. She was a happy drunk, but such a drunk nonetheless. She loved me, though. I know that now, more than ever. Being an adult is hard. I so easily could've allowed myself to slip into the cycle of addiction the way she did. In fact, I nearly did. What would life be like now had Masen Hale never become my bodyguard?

"And your brothers?" I ask, after a moment.

"Yeah."

"Are you all really from Chicago?"

He nods.

"What are their names?"

He smiles fondly, counting off on his fingers. "Carlisle, Garrett, Michael."

"Do they look like you?" I ask, smiling at the expression on his face. They're close, I can tell.

"Carlisle looks like my dad did. Blond hair, blue eyes. The rest of us look like my mom though."

"She must've been beautiful."

"She was." He stares at the window, eyes faraway. I run my palm over the top of his head, and he smiles, shutting his eyes.

"I like how your hair feels. And...I love the color of this," I say sheepishly, touching his scruff. Guess it's all coming out now; all those months of stifled admiration.

"I need to shave it," he chuckles.

"It's pretty."

"Just what every guy want to hear. _You have a pretty beard, Edward!_"

"Shut up!" I snort. "It is! It's like...red and blond and just...really nice."

He shakes his head, smirking.

"How'd you get this?" I ask, touching the scar that resembles a dimple.

"Fell out of a tree when I was nine."

I grimace. "Ouch."

"Fell off my bike," he says, pulling up his sleeve and showing me another scar near his elbow.

"Well, I sprained my ankle when I was thirteen. It sucked, being on crutches."

"You got me there – I've never had to use crutches."

"Consider yourself lucky, then."

"I do," he says quietly, gazing at me, and I get the impression he means something more.

One thing about Edward: we've almost always had companionable silences, even when he was Masen and I was Alec's girl. That's one thing that hasn't changed, and I'm glad. He's easy to look at, easy to be with.

"I hated when you did coke," he whispers, his eyes filling with something I don't quite know. Sadness, maybe?

I nod, biting the inside of my cheek, remembering those days. "I...I always wondered why you resisted. Why you didn't just do it with us." I glance up at him. "I wanted to do it with you so badly."

"Why?"

"I don't know. It was something I could share with you, I guess. I wanted to feel that way _with_ you, even before I really understood I was feeing something _for _you." Sighing, I scrub a hand over my face. "You made me want to stop though. I knew you hated it. You'd get this...look."

Our eyes lock. It's surreal remembering these things. It's as if they happened to someone else...we've been through a lot.

"I hated when you let other girls get close," I say. "That used to really...bother me."

He nods slowly, moving the chess board aside to he can lie down beside me. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." I exhale long and slow, letting it go. "I'm just glad we have this now."

* * *

**jeez. i don't know what it is w/these two. if i was sequestered away in a little house in a little rainy town i would totally do more than have sex all the time. pfft.**


	22. Austere

**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

**not beta'd**

**Word Prompt**:** Austere**

**Scenario: You need to have a heart-to-heart talk with a friend about a difficult topic.**

* * *

"I need things."

Edward looks up at me from the computer, eyebrow raised. "Okay?"

"Food, I mean. And maybe some outerwear. I miss our walks." I turn to the window, pushing my palm to the cold glass. It leaves a foggy print that disappears in seconds. "Do you think it's safe? To walk around?"

"I think so." He pushes back from the desk, stretching. "And anyway, I'm always armed."

The thought puts a stone in my stomach, and though I nod, I leave the room. It's something I battle with every damn day: the necessity of self protection versus the horror of taking someone's life. If given the chance, I wouldn't change anything I did that night. That doesn't mean I don't regret it, though. As awful as Alec became, he didn't deserve to die.

It was him or me, though.

Edward joins me in the kitchen, leaning against the counter. "You okay?" In just a week's time we have become accustomed to one another's moods and tells. I guess it's because we spent so much time together before, too. I forget that sometimes.

"Just...working through it." We've talked about that night a few times. I avoided it at first, but then I realized it would do us both good to just...get it out. Edward attended a couple of exit interview type counseling sessions, but he admits to needing therapy too. Even if we hadn't dealt with such violence that one night, spending three years undercover takes a toll. The Marshals that placed us here and provide us with protection are in the process of finding an appropriate therapist.

I'm looking forward to it as much as I'm dreading it. Wounds can't heal properly if they're never cleansed.

"You wanna take the truck?" he asks. "There's a grocery store in town, I think. Thriftway or something. And Newton's Outfitters looks like it might be a sporting goods type deal."

"How do you know all this?" I chuckle, sipping the tea I've just poured.

"The internet," he says dryly.

"Oh. Well, yeah." The coziness of the past week is still appealing, but if I don't get out soon it's going to turn to cabin fever. Except for a brief drive Edward and I took late one night to "get a feel for the place", we really haven't been out. Broken bones and bad memories have a way of making you want to stay inside.

I'm getting over that, though.

"I need to change, then we can go," I say, draining the tea before placing the cup in the sink. There's no dishwasher here, so I wash things by hand. I find that it doesn't bother me the way I thought it might.

Edward straightens up. "Well, I'm ready when you are. I just need to make a couple of calls."

Our trip into downtown Forks, which consists of little more than a Main Street, takes all of forty five minutes. Having lived my life in sprawling, urban locales, I find the sleepiness of this place amusing. I mean, I guess I can see the appeal: with the towering evergreens and silver skies, there's a sort of haunting, austere beauty to it. The woods feel mysterious, even creepy when night falls. I imagine this is the sort of place where everyone knows everyone else, which could be problematic for Edward and me, only folks tend to keep a polite distance. Curious smiles never lead to conversation, and that's for the best.

It's also why we will never go out to eat at the local Diner, or to find a bar or something in Port Angeles. Our survival depends on being as reclusive and invisible as possible. It'll be nice once we're in the second phase of WitSec, when we're able to integrate normally into society.

For dinner, I try to make shepherd's pie again, this time using a different recipe. Edward hovers nearby, making suggestions, and when we finally sit down to eat, his dreamy expression is worth all of the effort.

"It's a lot like hers," he says, referring to his mom.

"Mm, good."

The next day, dressed in layers, raincoats and boots, we take our walk. It's more like a hike through the woods, actually, with all of the rocks, puddles, logs and brush. I find myself unable to resist taking pictures of the scenery; it's like something out of a movie, gothic romance meets fantasy.

"Shh," Edward says suddenly, holding my arm.

I freeze, terrified, and his face softens as he draws me close.

"Nothing bad," he whispers. "Didn't mean to scare you. Look."

He points, and there, beside a rushing stream, is a deer. She stares unflinchingly back at us for a couple of seconds before turning and darting away, disappearing so quickly it's like she was never there to begin with.

The beauty of it, combined with my initial fear, has my heart racing. It takes a while for it slow, but Edward doesn't let go.

"Sorry," I whisper.

"Why?" He frowns slightly. "I think that was a pretty normal reaction, considering."

I shake my head, pocketing my phone. I'd been so entranced by the deer I hadn't even thought to snap a picture of her. "Maybe, but I wish it wasn't."

"It won't always be."

"Yeah." We resume walking, picking our way through exposed roots and bright green leaves shimmering with raindrops.

* * *

Time passes slowly. We start each day with breakfast and a long walk through the woods. Usually, despite the warm clothing and exercise, I'm damp and chilled to the bone by the time we return, so I take a hot shower or bath. A lot of the time, this leads to sex...sometimes in the tub, if we don't feel like waiting to dry off for the bed.

We snack and watch movies, cuddling over popcorn, or get a start on dinner, where Edward pretends to help but really just messes with me. It's a playful side I'm absolutely in love with, and one that was hidden from me for a long time. He brings out my playful side, as well. It's amazing how love and security strip away he walls we've built. Sometimes I mourn for the version of myself that put up with Alec's shit and that lifestyle for so long. Other times I berate myself for letting it go that far.

Soon it's the day before Christmas Eve.

I'm completely ambivalent. On one hand, it's the first year I feel free to do what I want. It's not another day or drudgery and sadness, or even numbness. I truly have much to be thankful for. On the other hand, though, I'm nearly consumed with homesickness. I miss my father so badly. I haven't seen him on Christmas for years, so it shouldn't be anything new, but somehow knowing he's out there but still unaccessible depresses me.

Like I've traded one type of captivity for another.

Edward finds me in the tub, head on my knees.

"Bella?"

I look up slowly, blinking. He's sitting on the side of the tub, concerned. "Are you crying?"

"I miss my dad."

His face falls, and he grabs at his hair, only it's too short, so he has to settle for rubbing it. This happens all the time, and while it normally makes me giggle, tonight it just makes me sadder. He hates when I'm like this.

"Do you want to try and contact him?"

"Can I? Is there a way?"

He shrugs. "There's gotta be. He's got connections, too, you know? And so do I." He leans forward, elbows balanced on his thighs. "It's this time of year, huh?"

"I guess." I go extend my legs out straight and submerge myself underwater, leaving just my face above.

"Happens to me, too. Nothing like Christmas to remind you how alone you are."

I think of the past couple of years. Alec always invited the guys to hang out for dinner, but he let them go if they had family, too. Now I know Edward never had a home to return to. Besides having deceased parents, he couldn't go back to his brothers because of his undercover status.

"We have each other, at least," I whisper, watching him.

He nods, smiling sadly. "For sure."

Later that night, I get a phone call from Jacob Black. He talks to me for a second before handing the phone to Charlie, which completely catches me by surprise. I cover my mouth in shock, whipping around to find Edward on the couch, grinning.

"Bells?"

"Hey, Dad!"

"How's it going, honey?"

"It's good. Quiet, you know?"

"I bet." He clears his throat. "It's good to hear your voice."

Swallowing my tears, I nod. "You too. I miss you like crazy."

"Yeah, we miss you too. Wish it was, you know. Wish these were better times."

We talk for a couple of minutes before saying our goodbyes. Jacob promises he'll do his best to facilitate more phone calls like this one. Needless to say, caution and vigilance are key, here. Edward tells me that Charlie and Sue are being watched by the US Marshals too, in the event that the Dvoskins try to target them for either revenge or as possible links to me. It hasn't been confirmed yet, but rumor has it – surprise, surprise – there's a price on my head.

Later that evening, Edward and I dash to Thriftway to pick up food for Christmas. We might only have each other, but I love to cook. I find it therapeutic and uplifting, and what are the holidays without delicious smells? I spend most of the next day baking and prepping a chicken so that I can have it ready to roast on Christmas morning.

Edward surprises me with lights he grabbed from the store, as well as a crackling fireplace. We celebrate the evening in a warm glow, sharing hot chocolates blessed generously with Baileys.

He gets a phone call around nine, stepping into another room to take it. This happens from time to time. Despite his early retirement, he's still on top of the case as a result of both his involvement in it and his bond with Emmett. It's nice having a link to the outside.

Edward returns a minute later, settling down next to me. I curl up into his side, careful not to bump his shoulder or rib.

"I think I want another one," I say, holding up my empty mug.

"Hmm...me too."

I grin, a little toasty, and kiss him.

And then there's a knock at the door, yanking me out of my swoony little interlude. Before I can panic, Edward slips his arm around me tightly. "It's okay. They called."

"Who? Who called?" I put my cup down anxiously. This is not a typical life – we don't _get_ visitors.

He stands up, bringing me to my feet. By now it's obvious he knows something I don't, but I don't dare hope. It's not possible; I've known that since my time in the hospital.

But then he looks through the peephole, and gestures for me to open the door.

Charlie and Sue stand with two of the assigned Marshals, Paul and Jared, on the other side.

"Merry Christmas, sweetheart."

Gasping, I throw myself at my father, and then at Sue, whose face is wet with tears. They come inside as Paul nods curtly. "Have a good night. I'll be back on Sunday." He turns and leaves before I can thank him properly.

"How...?" I'm overcome with relief, and love. So much love.

Edward locks the door behind us. "It might be the last Christmas we can do this, so...we figured it was worth a shot."

* * *

_**wrapping up; just a few more chapters. **_

_**thank you so very much for sharing your thoughts with me. i love reading what you have to say...sometimes it makes me laugh, or gigglesnort, or gape or gasp or grimace or any number of juicy reactions. so just, thanks for taking the time. that's what makes this community thrive: interaction. speaking of which, you can also find me on twitter - roglows - and FB.**_

_**xo**_


	23. Charge

**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

**not beta'd**

**Word Prompt: Charge**

**Plot Generator—Phrase Catch: It will all work out in the end.**

* * *

Maybe if things were different, more _normal_, Edward and I would have Christmas music or something, but they're not so we don't. Instead, things are quiet for a minute as I give Charlie one last squeeze and turn to Sue, who comes in for a long overdue hug.

I'm so glad my father has her. The last time we saw one another she and my dad were still dating. They'd been friends a long time before that; Sue was a widower whose first husband, Harry, had worked on the force with Charlie. He'd died from heart disease years before, and Charlie had always been around to help the family out when he could. What started as a friendly relationship eventually turned into more, and I wasn't surprised when he told me he was going to propose.

Part of me will always regret that I missed their backyard wedding a couple years back. It's one of the many things I'll have to learn to accept.

But now they're here, and we're all together. Sue pushes my hair back, gazing fondly at me. I realize it's been a really, really long time since I've had this kind of maternal affection, and it makes me a little gooey inside. Taking a deep breath, I smile and grab Edward's hand.

"So, Dad, Sue...this is Edward."

He shakes Sue's hand, and then Charlie's, firmly. "Good to finally meet you. Bella's talked about you for a long time."

Charlie nods briskly. "It's good to meet you, too, Edward. Thanks for...taking care of her." His voice breaks, and he turns to Sue, motioning for her to slide her coat off. It's a diversionary tactic so that he can get a grip on his emotions, and I play along, knowing just how he feels. Tonight's a big deal for all of us.

We take their bags before they can argue and lead them further into the house.

"Thanks for setting this up," Sue adds, following us. "I know it was last minute, but there was nowhere we'd rather be."

"No problem," Edward says softly. His eyes find mine, and if I wasn't already in love with him I sure would be now. I'm a goner.

"How are Seth and Leah? What are they up to tonight?" I ask, referring to Sue's kids.

"Leah's engaged now," she says, smiling. "Spending the holidays with her fiance and his family, and Seth went snowboarding in Tahoe with friends. I told them Charlie had surprised me with a trip for Christmas, so they were okay with doing their own thing."

"That's cool," I say, remembering the few times I'd met them way back.

"There's an extra bedroom upstairs," I say, as we approach the stairs. "I...don't now if we have sheets and stuff. I'll have to look. Sorry about that..."

"It's okay," Sue says quickly. "You weren't expecting us..."

But when I open the door, the bed is already made. I glance at Edward. "Did you do this?"

"There was an extra set of sheets in the closest," he says, shrugging.

"You thought of everything," I whisper as Charlie and Sue move past.

"It's the least I could do," he says, suddenly serious. "It's been...a rough couple of years."

We look at one another, really look, and I know he sees me. There's no doubt in my mind that he was brought to me on purpose, and though I've never been the praying type I might just start now.

The room falls silent, and I realize Charlie and Sue are waiting on us.

"Bella's got all kind of stuff ready for tomorrow, but we have sandwich fixings downstairs if you want. You guys hungry?" Edward asks.

Charlie claps him on the back. "Starved."

Over grilled cheese sandwiches and beer, we catch up.

Charlie's been keeping a low profile, staying at home a lot with Sue. They go fishing together sometimes, or drive out to the city to see Seth or Leah in Berkeley, but that's about it. Not exactly the fun life of retirement I'd envisioned for them, and it bums me out somewhat.

"Is it because of me?" I ask eventually, wiping my mouth with a napkin.

Charlie glances up at me. "What do you mean?"

"I mean are you being encouraged to stay home because it's safer? _Are_ you safe?"

"Honey, we're fine. I can take care of myself and Sue."

"I know, but..."

"We're okay, Bella," Sue says, resting her hand atop mine. "Yes, we do choose to live simply these days just in case. We want to be ready to help if anything comes up. We want to be close to home. Things are very...up in the air right now."

"You mean with the case. The trial."

She nods.

Charlie looks at Edward. "You've been keeping in touch with McCarty, am I right?"

"Yes, I have," Edward says. He finishes his beer and stands, clearing the other empty bottles from the stable. "We talk every couple of days on a secured line."

"So I assume you know that, besides coercion and extortion, they're looking to charge both Aro and Caius both with bookmaking and illegal gambling?"

A memory of Alec on the phone pops into my head, hearing him talk to someone about "the numbers" down south. They'd been doing a lot of runs back and forth between Vegas and the Bay back then, too. I hadn't given it much thought at the time, but thinking back, it coincided with a couple of visits from Uncle Caius.

The stuff I was actually aware of pales in comparison to the the vast amounts of shadiness the Dvoskin family was dabbling in. I wonder how deep it goes, and how many people have to disappear or be put behind bars before it all stops.

Before_ I_ can really feel safe.

Edward's already answering my dad, and before long they're deep in conversation. Details of the case, confidential information concerning things that happened in the house on the hill as well as in the aftermath of the murders...it's a little much for me. I know I'm going to have to go through this stuff again as the trials draw near and Emmett starts prepping me again, but right now, I just want to pretend my life is normal.

I want to stick my head in the sand, or up in the clouds, or somewhere where I don't have this awful mental catalog of traumatic memories.

Standing up, I clear the rest of the table and start washing dishes. Sue joins me, rolling up the sleeves of her cardigan.

"Can I help?"

"It's okay, Sue," I say, bumping her hip with mine. "There's hardly anything."

"Let me dry, at least."

"Sure."

We work in tandem for a few moments, concentrating on the task at hand.

"I made a chicken for tomorrow," I say. "I'm going to wake up early to pop it into the oven. I'm so glad you guys are here with us."

"I am too, sweetheart." Sue sighs. "Your father has been so worried. It's not easy for anyone, you know?"

Nodding, I hand her the last plate. "He knows we're safe out here, though, right?"

"He knows, but...I think he's harboring a lot of guilt about not doing something all those years you were with Alec."

I blow my hair from my face. "He couldn't have known what was going on. I mean," I shake my head. "Alec wasn't like that way back. There was no way of knowing he'd end up keeping me against my will."

Sue sniffles, and when I look at her, she's got the back of her hand to her mouth. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," I whisper, drying my hands so that I can give her another hug. "Really. It's okay. It wasn't all bad all the time. And by the time it started getting really bad, Masen Hale had showed up."

She smiles a little. "He was good to you?"

"Even then." I nod.

"I prayed for you," she says. "All the time. Charlie didn't really want to hear it, but...I had to. I still do, Bella. I pray for you."

"Thank you, Sue. I need it. We all do."

"I don't mean to minimize things but, bad things can have good outcomes sometimes, you know? We just have to trust. Even this," she gestures around. "It will all work out in the end."

"I hope so." I hang the dish towel over the oven handle. "I really hope so."

"Edward's a good man," Sue says. "After Charlie found out you were in the hospital, and he went down to see you, he looked into things the best he could. There was a lot of secrecy, obviously – still is – but he was impressed by what he did find."

"I'm still learning about him, myself, but...yeah. Edward's great. I can't even say I regret anything because it brought us together." It sounds so cliché, but I know it's true. It's something I've worked through time and time again, and I always come up with the same conclusion.

"You two will have quite a story to tell the grandkids," Sue teases.

I roll my eyes. "I can't even think that far ahead."

She pops open a couple of beers and hands them to me. "Happens a lot faster than you might expect," she says.

* * *

I'm in bed, watching Edward brush his teeth through the doorway that leads into our bathroom. It's a humble space, this house, narrow in places and sometimes cracked or faded with age, but it's got personality. Wherever we end up, I hope it's someplace similar, a place that really feels like home.

When Edward finally climbs in beside me, I'm so full of gladness and gratitude that all I can do is reach for him and hold him close.

"Are you happy?" I whisper.

"Yeah." He slides down so that he's lying flat beside me. "Are you?"

"It's getting better, I think. Every day it gets better and tonight...you really," I pause, closing my eyes. "You really gave me the only thing I'd been missing. Thank you."

"I had to do something." His lips on mine are feather soft. "I hated seeing you cry."

"Always looking out for me," I whisper, kissing him. "_Bodyguard_."

He snorts quietly. "For you, anything."

"Then be mine forever."

He grins crookedly, easing me on to my back. "Forever's a long time. Sure you won't get sick of me?"

"Never."

We make love quietly, not wanting to disturb our guests down the hall. Outside the rain falls and then freezes, and by the time I fall asleep, I'm pretty sure I see snow.


	24. Tedious

**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

**not beta'd**

**Word Prompt: Tedious**

* * *

_thirteen months later_

* * *

Emmett leans back, wiping his hands over his face.

"I know, I know," I sigh, tapping my fingers on the kitchen table. "It's not like I can forget any of this stuff, Em. It's burned into my brain."

He nods. "Okay. Okay. Well, then I guess we're done, then. There's not much more you can do except...get some rest and be ready for Thursday."

"I will be."

"You sure?"

"Do I have a choice?" I ask, rhetorically.

"You always have a choice," he answers.

Bull.

"I'm ready. I'll see you Wednesday, right? You'll bring Rose?"

"Yeah. She wanted to come this time, too, but...you know. It was't exactly a social call."

It really hasn't been. Emmett came yesterday, early evening, a briefcase in one hand and his overnight bag in the other. After a light dinner and a bit of catching up, he'd stayed in the extra room, and I'd heard the rhythmic clicking of his typing go on into the late hours of night. The minute we woke up this morning, we began reviewing the case over coffee. Like I told him, I could never forget these things. And not just the big things, but the minor details, too. Conversations I'd overheard over the years, people, faces, stories. There was a wealth of information stored inside my head, a lot of which collaborated with what "Masen Hale" had uncovered, but some of which was brand new.

And despite the fact he is no more than a room away, I miss Edward. He's hanging out with Paul and Sam in the living room, playing cards and shooting the breeze. I could have easily slipped through the door to say hi, or "check on him", but I know my time with Emmett takes precedent. Not only is he spending precious time away from his wife, but we're down to the wire now in terms of the trial. All of the hard work and investigating that has been going on for the past five years – even from before Edward infiltrated the Dvoskin family as Masen – is finally going to pay off.

There is no question that Aro and Caius are going down for a long time. Probably life. They've been involved in everything from indirectly selling street drugs to arranging hits – and that's just the stuff the Feds can officially pin them for. God only knows what other crap they've done and gotten away with.

The team building the case seems happy that it has "only taken a year" and then some, but for me, it's surprising that it's taken that long. On TV these things always seemed to move along so briskly. In real life, though, every 'I' has to be dotted, every 't' crossed. I'm not privy to the majority of it, but still, I am a key witness. My testimony is essential, and I definitely feel the pressure of wanting to perform well.

Emmett yawns, cracking his knuckles as he stands. "All right. I think I'm going to head out. I'll let you know if I think of anything."

I nod, knowing he won't. He's nothing if not extremely thorough.

There are going to be two trials that I am expected to testify in, the first of which is Thursday. I'll be on the stand, explaining what happened the night I had to kill Alec. The second, which is two months later, will be mostly about the activities the Dvoskin family were involved in. In that case, I'll be one of many witnesses called forward, and it's the one I'm dreading the most. There are going to be a lot of faces in that courtroom I hope never to see again.

Emmett collects his things, shuffling his papers into a neat pile. I follow him out into the living rom, where the guys are sitting around and talking, the TV on low in the background. Edward's eyes catch mine, and he sits forward, expectant.

"I'm all done here," Em says, stretching.

Sam nods, jumping to his feet. "Ready to head out?"

"Yeah."

Flying would be faster and more efficient, but driving is safer, so Sam and Emmett have quite the journey ahead of them. Edward and I follow the men to the door, wishing them a safe drive.

"So...how do you think it went?" Edward asks, locking up afterwards.

"Good. I'm a little nervous about Thursday, but I'm relieved we're finally here, you know? Finally making this step. It feels like we're that much closer to having normal lives again."

"Normal," he snorts, putting his arm around me as we settle back on the couch.

"You know what I mean."

"Of course I do. As long as you know that normal is subjective and we'll probably never be fully _normal_."

I know what he means. The things that happen in our lives shape us, and while we are able to move past certain things, they still leave scars. Like, I don't have nightmares anymore, and I'm generally able to sleep without medication these days, but not a day goes by that I don't think about Alec. I wonder sometimes if one of us had done something differently, maybe things wouldn't have ended the way they did.

"It'll be nice to have a job," I muse, imagining the possibilities.

"Can't say I miss having to work," Edward says.

"Well, I never had to, so...I don't know." I frown, thinking back to high school. I never even had a part time or after school job – Charlie was determined I focus on my grades and getting into a good college. Crazy how different my priorities were back then.

Later on, I bring soup and sandwiches out for dinner. Edward's camped out on the couch again, watching TV.

"Are you still watching Adventuretime?"

"Sure am."

I wrinkle my nose, setting his food down on the coffee table. "I swear, the people who created this show were on something. Like acid."

He snickers, scooting forward to pick up his sandwich. We watch and eat for awhile, commenting sometimes about the bizarre shenanigans that Finn and Jake find themselves participating in. I must admit, I sort of love this show. We both do.

Times like this, Sue's words that everything would be all right make so much sense. We've been in Forks a little over a year, and within the next couple of months, our time in this wet little town will be up. Things have become increasingly monotonous here, a tedious repetition of rainy days and limited activities. One thing is certain: Edward and I have gotten to know one another really, _really _well. In some ways, like I told Edward, I'll be relieved to move on. It'll feel like the waiting, this sense of purgatory, is over. In other ways, I'm scared out of my mind. We're so protected here. Bubble wrapped safe from reality. Starting over will mean that we have to actually live again, be exposed.

I both crave it and dread it.

* * *

I'm shaking.

It started inside the courtroom. I don't know what I thought...but I didn't expect to see Alec's mother. I haven't seen her since we were really young, and now, to see her again under these circumstances...it was awful.

She stared at me the entire time, mired down in sadness and accusation. I had to focus on my attorney, and on my testimony. I'd done nothing wrong, and it was my time to explain that.

I'm spirited back to the hotel, where several US Marshals keep watch over me day and night. This is my new home during the trials, right in the heart of Oakland. Being this close to my old stomping grounds and not being able to see any of it is frustrating and depressing.

By the end of the week I'm fully cleared. It doesn't hurt that Edward had the house I shared with Alec house crawling with surveillance. Kind of creeps me out now, but I'm so grateful for it.

The next trial will be for Aro and Caius. And then, I disappear. For good.

Charlie and Sue, having special clearance, spend nights during the last week in my hotel room. I haven't seen Edward since all of this started. He's already gone on to our new home, a place I'll be made aware of upon leaving Oakland. He and I talked a lot about the kinds of places that appealed to us, and the people putting our new lives together took that into consideration.

It'll be interesting to see where we end up, though.

My time in the court room moves at a snail's pace. It's also rather anti-climactic. Neither Aro nor Caius ever make eye contact, even though they know, and I know, they have a contract out on me. Maybe it's because I've had time to get used to that idea, but I'm not as intimidated as I thought I'd be. In fact, I'm sort of glad I'm getting a chance to speak out about these two douchebags. In some ways, their lifestyle and mentorship are what led Alec down the path that ended in his demise. He made his own choices, I know, and I made mine; none of us are innocent.

But his father and uncle weren't exactly good examples.

As soon as I give my testimony and am questioned and cross examined, I'm free to go. It takes about three days.

I spend one last night in the hotel with my dad. Sue went to sleep earlier, exhausted from the stress of the trials, but Charlie and I are wide awake, grasping these last moments like the treasures they are. One "last" Christmas turned into two, thanks to the lengthy nature of the legal process, so we lucked out there, but now this really is it.

"I thought I'd be ready to say good bye, but now that it's time, I don't..." Tears choke me up, and I stop, trying to breathe through it.

"I know." Charlie sighs, and I know he's crying a little too. "I'm proud of you, Bella. What you did in there...it was a big deal. A lot of people let fear keep them quiet, but you did the right thing."

"Thanks, dad." I feel like I did the _only_ thing.

We talk until we're passing out, and then he goes to the couch fold-out he's sharing with Sue while I snuggle down into bed.

One my right hand is a simple little silver ring Charlie gave me for my sixteenth birthday. I've worn it ever since, even when things were strained between us. On my left is a much newer ring, from Edward. It speaks of things to come, of promises made in the middle of the night.

I go to sleep suspended between the most opposite of feelings: intense sadness that I'll be leaving one man in my life and deep anticipation at seeing the other.

* * *

**i decided, in the end, to go light on the case stuff. as fascinating as that can be (and i've read some fics that really rocked it), this story isn't that kind of story.**

**thanks for all the love, you guys. seriously. if i could, i'd reply to each every review every time. i wish i could, but it's sort of impossible while updating daily and chasing 2 kids around. i know i say this a lot, but i really want to communicate how much you and your comments mean to me. i'm deeply appreciative.**

**xoxo**


	25. Veteran

** All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

**not beta'd**

**Word Prompt**:** Veteran**

**Dialogue Flex: "Thank you for your service."**

* * *

Charlie, Sue and I order room service in the morning. Over coffee, eggs and bacon, we talk lightly about things, as if this is just another day. It's easier this way. We've been through the heavy discussions and sad times, and we've accepted it somewhat. There is no avoiding the inevitable, so instead, we move forward.

It's not horribly dreadful, but nor it is joyful, because as soon as the conversation falls silent the reality of my life comes back with a slap, and it's all I can do to shove down the sadness. This is it. It's my life. The choices I made years ago, months ago, days ago...all influence the rest of my existence.

At seven o'clock, there's a knock at the door.

Emmett and Rosalie enter, followed by Jacob, Sam, and Paul. I have such a soft spot for these guys. I've gotten to know them pretty well during the past year and a half, and though they were simply "doing their jobs", they've become fixtures in my life. I give each of them quick hugs, even Paul, who smiles a sliver before stepping away.

"I...thank you for your service," I say, swallowing. "You've done an excellent job in keeping me safe and I just," I take a deep, calming breath. My emotions are running high again; it's a wonder I'm not back on my meds. "I just want you to know I appreciate you. Please be safe."

"Always," Jacob says, eyes crinkling kindly. Perhaps more than any of the other Marshals, he has been the one I've gotten to know best, and sometimes I think I detect some affection coming from him. He always keeps things professional, though. I know he's got a lot of respect for Edward, and for what we've been through. "It's been a pleasure."

I give Emmett a quick, one-armed hug as we sit down. He pats my knee and clears his throat, obviously ready to get down to business.

"Well, Bella, this is it. Once we go over this stuff, you'll be brought to the airport with your new identification papers. This is it. You'll never be Bella Swan again, okay?"

I nod, the enormity of it all threatening to overtake me. This is insane.

"While you're free to do as you please, we obviously suggest you avoid the Bay Area and surrounding regions due to members of the crime syndicates who have not yet been identified or incarcerated. Simply put, it is not safe for you here. It might never be. I'd suggest you avoid Forks and Phoenix, Arizona, for the same reasons. You never want to willingly put yourself into a situation where someone could ID you."

Sue, sitting beside me, squeezes my hand.

I stare at the packet of paperwork in front of me. "I understand."

"All right. Your flight is in two and a half hours. Let's finish this up and do what we have to do."

* * *

High above the clouds, I sip on water and gaze at the endless blue outside my window. My mind reels at all I've been through, and I feel it'll be some time before I'm fully settled. It's difficult to believe it's actually over, that Aro and Caius and most of their cronies are behind bars, or, in some cases, dead.

Some are in hiding, of course. There are those who ran when things started going down, people who're waiting for the dust to settle. They'll capitalize when the time is right, and life will go on. Then there are those who, like me, testified in exchange for freedom or protection. I don't know who they are, just like they might not know me, but I know they're in WitSec.

And then there's Alec...my memories of him. Before moving to Forks, I'd given Emmett the engagement ring, asking him to sell it off. He had, depositing the money into a special account, one that becomes available when I start my new life with Edward. The other ring, the one I'd had since high school...that one was harder to get rid of. It was a symbol of happier times, of when the only things between me and Alec were love and hope.

I didn't sell that one.

Instead, I tossed it into a river during one of my walks with Edward while living in Forks. It seemed fitting, somehow. He didn't ask and I didn't offer, but I think he kind of knew. It was my way of mourning Alec's life, and the horrible way it ended.

Now the only jewelery I wear are the rings from Charlie and Edward. I can't wait to see Edward. It's been months, and though we've shared a couple of phone calls, thanks to Emmett and Jacob, it's nothing like being together. Before the trials, I'd seen Edward nearly every day of my life for the past two and a half years.

Just a few more hours now.

Finishing my water, I put the empty cup on the tray table of the empty seat beside me. I reach into my carry on for my book, a novel Sue got me for the flight. To my surprise, she's written a quick note on the inside.

_Thinking about you and praying for you always._

_Love, S_

Grinning, I run my finger over the script, wondering when she had time to write it. Then, something slips from between the pages. It's just a postcard; nothing's written on it.

It's the Bay Bridge, focusing on Yerba Buena.

My heart squeezes. I look closer, thinking automatically about Charlie, and then I see it, written in tiny letters down in the corner.

_Live your life. Don't hold your breath._

I'd always remembered that; I'd never realized he had, too.

Tears spill. Tucking the postcard back into my book, I clench my eyes shut and turn my face to the window. Silent sobs rack my body, but I hold them inside, not wanting to make a scene. This is my moment, and I don't want to share it with anybody.

After a time, the sadness passes. I'm tired now, the build up and subsequent release of feelings and emotions having left me boneless. Snuggling down under my fleece hoodie, I drift.

* * *

The Miami Airport is utterly insane.

The last time I was here was on my return trip from the Cayman Islands. Incredible how my life has changed since then.

I hope Edward's here; he must be. I don't have a phone yet, but he does, and Jacob made sure he forwarded my information to him as quickly and judiciously as possible. I glance around baggage claim, but he's nowhere to be found, so I grab my own bags and stagger out to the curb, wondering what he's driving nowadays.

A minute later a silver Volvo SUV pulls up. I squint into it, and the blond inside squints back, grinning. I run a hand self-consciously though my short little pixie cut, terrified he'll hate it.

He jumps out and comes over slowly, that sexy, crooked grin playing at his mouth.

"Hey, Charlotte."

"Hi, Peter."

We stare at each other for a minute, unsure and overwhelmed.

"You cut it," he says, coming closer.

"Is it okay?" I ask, touching it again.

"More than okay. It's sexy," he says, finally close enough to touch. I think he's going to take my bags, but instead he takes me into his arms and holds me tight. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," I breathe, running my fingers through his hair. It's long again. "Blondie."

"Is it okay?" he teases, and I know he's nowhere as insecure about his hair as I am about mine.

Although, I definitely prefer him with his natural bronze color. "It works," I say, kissing the corner of his mouth. He kisses back, running his hands over my hair. It feels amazing, actually. Maybe I'll get used to my hair being like this.

He pulls away, grabbing my bags. "Let's get out of here. We have quite the drive."

Edward's not joking. By the time we finally make it our of the Miami area, where road work narrows the sprawling I-95, it's past eleven. Emmett and Jacob have kept him abreast of what was going on, and I know there were parts of the trial made available for public consumption via the news, but I fill in the personal details. He does the same for me, describing our new home as unlike anything he's ever experienced.

If he has to spend the rest of his life in one place, he says, he's infinitely glad it's Islamorada, a cluster of islands within the Florida Keys. I can scarcely believe it myself, and if the Keys are this majestic in the moonlight, surrounded my glimmering water, I can only imagine what it's going to be like in the day.

No one here knows who we are, but Edward's made a couple of friends as Peter. It's going to take some time for me to get used to not only answering to another name, but actually being another person. Edward, at least, has had plenty of practical experience doing this.

"Helloooo," he says, wiggling my fingers. "You still awake?"

"Yeah. I'm here." I turn to him, smiling sleepily.

"Thought I'd lost you, there."

"Nah, just thinking. It's going to be hard being someone else."

"It takes time. Just...you're still _you_. It's the outward stuff that changes, not the essence of what and who you are. Make sense?"

His words remind me of something he told me once a long, long time ago. And, as I'm sure he intended, it's reassuring. "Yeah."

"Good."

"So...tell me about your new friends."

"Well, there's Randall, World War II veteran who lives a street over. He's been schooling me in fishing." He grins, shaking his head. "And Alice and Jasper, our neighbors. They're always having me over for dinner. I think they feel sorry for me."

I remember him mentioning them during one of our phone calls."Why?"

"'Cause I'm usually pining away for you."

"Stop," I laugh. Although, honestly, I've been pining for him, too.

"I'm serious," he says. "The story is that you had to stay behind to take care of your mother." He glances at me in the semi-dark, passing lights flickering over his face.

His fingers intertwine with mine. I nod. "Emmett told me."

Eventually, my jet lag starts to catch up with me, and though I don't want to fall asleep yet, I allow the conversation to peter out. Bridges and highways turn into main thoroughfares, which soon give way to small, residential streets. Edward pulls into a wide, lit up driveway framed by large trees: palms and and oaks dripping with Spanish moss by the looks of it.

"So...this is it," he says, cutting the engine.

I gaze up at the house. It's a two story, not too big, nothing remarkable about it from the outside. Perfect.

We grab my bags and walk around to the front door, which is, oddly, on the side of the house. It's nearing summer, and despite the fact it's late at night, the air is sultry and humid. I can't imagine what it's going to be like tomorrow.

"I'd show you around, but it's kind of late," Edward say, resting his keys on the kitchen counter. It's barely sinking in that this is _my house._ My house with Edward. For good. When we're actually married, this house will be in both our names. New names, but our names nonetheless. It's surreal, this whole thing. I'm half-afraid I'll wake up alone somewhere, and this will have been a long, crazy dream.

"Yeah, I just want to shower and sleep," I say, yawning. I want to make love too, but for once I'm just too tired.

The house, what I see of it, is nice –although it needs a personal touch. A feminine touch – mine. I can't wait. But for now, all I care about is the big, comfortable bed and the sliding glass doors that look out on to the water. I take a quick shower, trying not to get my hair wet because I don't feel like drying it, and fall into bed. The sheets are cool, and Edward and I slide around in them for awhile, kissing hello and kissing good night. It feels so good to be with him like this, knowing that we are finally free to love each other and live normally.

The muffled crash of waves can be heard if I listen closely enough, and that is what I hear as I fall asleep.

* * *

_**song: The Staves - Mexico**_

* * *

_**happy veterans day to my fellow americans who have served. thank you for your time and sacrifice. you are appreciated.**_

_**one more chapter and then, that's it.**_

_**thanks for the love, loves.**_

_**xo**_


	26. End of an Era

**All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.**

**not beta'd**

**Word Prompt: Abstract**

**Plot Generator—Idea Completion: The end of an era.**

* * *

I wake up slowly, stretching my arms and legs beneath the covers. The air conditioning must be turned way up; it's freezing. I haven't lived in a place that necessitated a/c since I lived with my mother in Phoenix, and that was so long ago I hardly remember.

Yawning, I roll onto my back and look around. Edward's nowhere to be seen, and after squinting at the clock beside the bed I see why; it's nearly eleven. The vertical blinds in front of the sliding glass windows are closed tight, but I can sense the how intensely bright the light is on the other side. The blinds sway minutely, from the a/c I guess, allowing in tiny seams of blazing sun.

I can't wait to be out there in it, soaking it up.

Running my hands over my hair, I kick the covers off and slide out of bed. We have an attached bathroom, like the last place, and I check it out as I pee. Nice and spacious, with frosted windows and ample sunlight. I hate dark bathrooms. I can already envision it with my personal effects, and maybe some plants. I wash my hands, noting my sleep-puffy skin. Nothing a little rest...and maybe sea water...can't handle.

Edward's in bed when I come out when I come out, shirtless and grinning.

"Morning," he says, patting the spot beside him.

"Morning." I smile back, biting my lip as I join him, my skin humming with the urge to be as close as possible. Hmm, I probably should have brushed my teeth while I was poking around the bathroom.

Before I can go too far down that road, though, he's rolled me on to my back, his naked skin warm against mine.

"I've been waiting for you to wake up," he murmurs, kissing all along my neck and ears, his hands up under my t-shirt.

"Sorry," I say, cringing with ticklishness and lust. I run my hands over his back and down, realizing just how naked he really is. "Jet lag, I guess."

"Mmm." I know that voice... at this point I could be singing show tunes...just as long as he can get me naked and wrapped around him, he doesn't really care. I lift my arms up, allowing him to strip me of my shirt and then we take my underwear off, kissing and touching.

He spreads my legs and goes down without warning or pretext. This is something he does well...he says he likes it, likes the way I feel against his fingers and tongue. It's been long enough that I'm cresting pretty quickly, my fingers snagged in his silly blond hair. I giggle, partly from the euphoria of coming, but partly because his hair makes him look like such a beach bum surfer type. Which is just so not Edward.

That's the point I guess. Maybe it's so _Peter_.

He pops up, grinning. "I love how that sounds."

"What?"

"You, laughing." He kisses me. "You, coming." He kisses me again, sliding against me. "You still on the pill?"

"Yeah...but I need to find a doctor soon. My prescription's about to run out."

"Okay..." Nodding, he pushes inside. I'm complete. How does it feel this good every time?

Sometimes we have chatty sex, where we whisper things and laugh and smile, and other times it's serious, hard core and rough. This time it's neither. It's coming back together, relief, stopping so he doesn't finish too fast and starting up in new positions; rolling me on to my stomach, bending me over the side of the bed, pulling me to sit on top. It's not often I come more than once but today, I do.

Afterward, we take a long shower together. Now we talk, smiling at each other, remembering, loving. We share the soap, a couple of kisses.

"So I'm glad you're finally here," he says as we dry off. "You can help me decorate this place. Actually, you can decorate it however you want."

Smirking, I hang my towel up. "Yeah, I noticed last night things were looking a little barren."

"It's better than it was," he says. "When I first moved in there were all these shitty paintings everywhere. Alice said it was abstract art, but I think that's bull."

I laugh, shaking my head. "Is she an artist, then?"

"Nah, I think she was just trying to be nice. She's really...perky. Positive."

"That's cool." I could use some people like that in my life.

"Yeah, it is. Her husband's a lot quieter, but he's a good guy. We'll see them today, I'm sure."

"You said she teaches kids how to snorkel or something?"

"Yeah, kind of a...I don't know. Free lance teacher or something. She loves kids. She said she might help run a camp or something this summer."

"Sounds nice." We move back to the bedroom, and Edward takes a moment to open the blinds. Just as I'd suspected, the light is stunning, shining directly overhead. Just beyond a pale strip of sand, the sea shimmers like a jewel. "Wow," I breathe, unable to look away.

"I know. I usually keep these open during the day, but I didn't want it to wake you up."

I nod, hypnotized by the brilliant panorama in front of me. The color scheme in the Bay is way different - cooler blue skies, hills that glow a rusty red in the afternoon; I couldn't have ended up in a more different place of I tried. This really is like Mexico, or the various Caribbean islands we vacationed in over the years. This is way better though, because not only is this not a vacation, but I'm with Edward now.

Eventually, I manage to peel myself away from the window to get dressed.

"So, what does Jasper do again?"

"Restores and repairs boats. Sailboats, mostly. He knows a lot of people, actually. We can probably so some sailing if you're interested."

"Oh, I am." I rummage through my bag, looking for the cotton sundress I know is buried in there.

Edward pulls on a pair of board shorts and a t-shirt. I'm used to his button downs and slacks, sweaters and hoodies and jeans. Again, I'm floored by how different he looks. "I'm thinking of buzzing it again," he says, running his fingers through his hair.

"It's weird, but you actually manage to rock it," I say, shrugging. "I don't know if I'm keeping this look yet or not. I really only did it to get out of the Bay."

He nods, coming closer. He smooths my side bangs from my face and kisses my nose. "It's really cute on you, though."

"Do you prefer it?" I ask, surprised.

"Do you?"

"I – I don't know. I'm still getting used to it. I kind of miss my long hair, but, this is so easy."

"You certainly look like a different person," he says. "You kind of remind me of Alice."

"It's apparent I need to meet this girl."

"Come on." He nods toward the door. "There's this place I like to go for breakfast."

* * *

We spend the day checking out the places Edward's come to know. Everything seems so rustic and laid back in the Keys. I know that, in time, the slow-paced lifestyle might become a little too quiet, at which point I'll beg to go to the mainland for a concert or something, but for now, it's perfect. After breakfast, we stop at the supermarket to pick up a few things, and then we head back home so that I can unpack the few belongings I have.

Our new home isn't huge, but the open floor plan and generous windows make it seem big. The sliding doors in the living room match the ones in our bedroom; both lead to balconied patios.

And when we get tired of shuffling around the house, we change into our swimsuits, grab a couple of beers, and go outside. The sand is soft and fine between my toes, the clear water heavenly and warm. We stay in until our beer is gone and our fingers are wrinkled, and even then we stay on the sand, watching the sun sink in the sky.

"So what do you think?" Edward asks, trailing a sandy finger along my thigh.

"I think I love it," I say. "I think we're really lucky."

He nods, squinting out toward the horizon. If I thought this was pretty earlier, it's magical now, the water prismatic beneath a setting sun.

"What do you want to do tomorrow?"

I draw my knees up. "I should probably find a doctor, I guess. And..."

It takes a minute, but he comes closer, kissing me. "And what?"

"Are we going to get married? Or..."

"So you want to do that tomorrow?" he chuckles, dropping tipsy kisses down my neck, veering toward my cleavage.

"Stop teasing me."

His smile fades, and he backs up a little. "I don't mean to tease you. We'll go to the courthouse tomorrow if you want."

"I do want. Do you?" I know he loves me, but some men can be funny about such binding commitment.

"Yeah, I really do." In this light, his eyes glow, and my heart skips that out of everyone in the world, I get to be with him. He's proven himself to me over and over again, and I love him like crazy. "I just want it to be special for you."

I tilt my face closer, and we kiss slowly.

Suddenly there's a frisky little bark, and a spray of sand as a tiny puppy, a Lab by the looks of it, bounds up. Laughing, I reach out to pet it, amused by his hyperactive panting, and the way he nips at Edward's fingers.

"Hi, Murphy," he laughs, petting him. "He's Alice's."

"Hey, Peter," someone calls, and I look over to see a petite brunette jogging over. "Sorry! He got away from me again..." Her hair really is like mine.

"'Cause you never use his leash," says the guy behind her, the lanky blond I assume is Jasper.

My heart clenches nervously, but I'm ready for this. Excited. We stand up, brushing sand from our butts.

"Hey, guys," Peter says. "I was wondering where you were."

"Key West, mostly. I've been working on a boat..." Jasper says, his eyes flickering to me.

"Cool. Well, this is Charlotte..."

"Hi!" Alice says, coming right over. She gives me a tentative hug. "I am _so_ so glad you're here. This guy's been missing you, let me tell you."

I smile at Peter, whose cheeks are flushed. It's adorable. "I've missed him too. And it's good to meet you...he talks about you all the time."

I shake Jasper's hand, and he grins, nodding back toward the houses. "Y'all are coming over for dinner, right?"

Peter nods. "For sure. Just gonna wash this sand off..."

"No problem, just come in when you're ready." Alice gives my hand a squeeze. "I have a feeling you and I are going to be great friends, Charlotte." She winks, and then she and Jasper wander off, Murphy running circles around their feet.

And just like that, I'm someone new. It's the end of an era, but the beginning of a new one, and it's not as difficult as I'd expected. I can do this. I want to. Like Peter once said, the essence of who I am remains. The important stuff. He'll always be my Edward and I'll always be his Bella.

He slips his arm around me and we go home.

* * *

_**and that's it.**_

_**thank you so much for the love and kindness you all show me on a regular basis. thank you for reading my stuff, and for engaging with me. i hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i liked writing it. much love.**_

_**xo**_

_**p.s taking a little break so i can catch up on some of your stories, as well as some books. but i'll be back.**_


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